The Year That Was, or Please Please Me
by Eleanor Pepperland
Summary: It's 1977, folks, and the Marauders are back! Peter's working to get slimmer, Remus is still Quiet Marauder, James is Head Boy, and Sirius seems to have found the girl who is game for nearly anything potion-related! Curious yet?
1. A Day in the Life

**It's my first Marauder's Era fanfiction! Not finishing/updating projects is not the greatest habit of mine, and I'll try my best to update this one, because I hardly do anymore, so I hope this actually goes well. Forgive me some inconsistencies and errors, it's been a long time since I've posted anything on here.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, or Sirius Black [if I did, Sirius wouldn't end up alone, and I don't think he deserves that]. Anything familiar from the Harry Potter series is property of J.K. Rowling, the most brilliant woman alive. I can only claim to own the plot, and the original characters.**

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><p>It was July.<p>

If she was being honest with herself, it had been the greatest summer she'd ever experienced. After all, it was the summer when she'd really felt she'd changed—she'd felt something other than the usual droll emotions of mundane wallflower. From watching people (not necessarily people at school), she'd learned what she liked, and didn't like: she liked dressing like someone from the sixties. She hoped she looked like Mia Farrow in her youth (even if she knew she didn't); she liked playing Quidditch, and dressing well. She'd learned to be kind to everyone. Even when she didn't like somebody's tone, she'd be civil enough to tell them.

That day she was staying over at her friend's house; Dakota Keighley lived in Brighton, but their family had a pool. That particular day was too hot to do anything _but _swim in that very pool, but she'd remembered that she hadn't brought a swimming costume. "Our neighbours are ignorant, they won't care if you swim without your swimming costume," Dakota said with a shrug, raking her fingers through her fair hair, which barely even reached her ears. "I will if you will," she said, grinning near-wickedly. "I'm game," her friend's voice was noncommittal, seeing as she was shimmying out of her corduroy shorts. "One," she began, "Two," Dakota pulled off the T-shirt she wore, "Three," with that, she pulled off the white sundress she'd been wearing, jumping into the pool, clad only in her under garments. There was a great _splash_—and she was surrounded by water.

She relished the feeling, being underwater. It was one of those moments wherein she felt weightless, and able to do whatever it was she set her mind to. The gold blob that had been her marker of Dakota's presence disappeared, meaning she'd left. Taking her time, she rose for air, not sputtering and gasping, but breathing as calmly as possible. She paddled to the stair portion, and walked the rest of the way up. Then she realised why Dakota had suddenly left the pool in pursuit of land; they had guests, unwelcome ones, in fact, and yet her friend was receiving them. By 'them,' she meant James Potter and Sirius Black, the two Marauders.

In truth, she really didn't have anything against the Marauders. Sure, they played pranks on people. She didn't find them boring or offensive to her. What she didn't like was the way that Potter was always clamouring for Lily Evans (whom she'd heard just been made Head Girl), a girl who seemed to despise him and his ways; she didn't like the way Black had fan girls everywhere he went, causing traffic jams in the hallways because of their gatherings in the corridors. Really, she didn't like having to take the long way to the library and find that it was already closed for the night. It was nothing personal, her mild dislike of them. It was indirect, mostly.

Potter shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun by holding up a hand, seemingly in salute. Most girls would have found that endearing, but she only waited for what he was going to say. It might have involved some sort of dry line, but he only said, "So, Dakota. We've been in the same house for seven years and you neglected to tell us that you had an ocean in your backyard." She quietly picked up her sundress, pulling it on for the sake of decency, and didn't try to impress them by fixing the dark fringe that was supposed to hang shyly over her tawny eyes. "It's not an ocean, James. It's a pool. Besides, you never asked," shrugged Dakota.

"Can we go for a swim, then?" asked the trademark drawl of Sirius Black. Unlike his friend, he had wisely chosen to shield his eyes with a rather nice pair of sunglasses—Panamas, she noted. "Go on then, my parents aren't coming back from the Bahamas until the first of September," Dakota found one of their helpers and asked for a drink, "Rue, do you feel like a margarita? I'm feeling significantly thirsty." At the mention of her nickname, she looked up from the interesting goings-on of a rock. "Oh, yes, that would be nice," she replied. "Seems like you've gone in the water, Sable, and how is it?" Black asked her. _How is it that you know my name? _"It's alright," she shrugged, sitting in one of the wicker chairs intended for reading or meals al fresco. "Come in with us, then," Potter suggested, "This pool's too big just for two people to share." _Yeah, right._

"I'm going to shower," she said, "Dakota will come back for you." Potter was dumbstruck as he muttered, "Er, OK." Black was more composed when he said, "Bye then, Sable."

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><p>September the First; it was the beginning of Sirius' seventh year.<p>

The Hogwarts Express was full, as usual. He, Remus, and Peter looked for an empty compartment, or at least a near-empty one that they could use. "There's one!" Peter pointed to one that was occupied by two girls, one brunette and one blonde. Sirius rapped three times on the compartment door to catch their attention. The blonde was the one that gestured for them to enter. He situated himself at the seat by the window. He found that he was across the brunette, who happened to be lovely and greatly familiar to him but he didn't know from where. "Remus, where are Lily and James?" asked the blonde, whom he finally recognised as Dakota Keighley, the pretty artist who liked putting her far-out views in her numerous paintings and sketches. _Wait, if she's Dakota Keighley, _he thought as his gaze rested upon the lovely brunette, _that means..._

"Rumer, Rumer Sable? Is that you?" he inspected the fair-skinned tawny-eyed stunner who sat before him with a line of fringe stopping at her brows, with the high cheekbones and not-too-full lips. "Surprised, Black?" she raised a brow challengingly. Her hair fell to her chest, longer than he'd ever seen it. "Your hair grew out," he observed. "Yeah, that's sort of why I got the fringe to go along with it," Rumer responded. "Padfoot, she only got a haircut. She's not an entirely different person. Oh, and Dakota, Lily and James have been made Head Girl and Head Boy. They're holding a meeting with the Prefects," Remus interjected, taking his nose out of his latest book (which happened to be called _Valerius Frigg and the Technicolor Enclave_) long enough to tell her this. "Why would James Potter get elected as Head Boy?" asked Rumer, looking at Remus. "Dumbledore said so," he responded for his friend, who had returned to the world of Valerius Frigg and his Technicolor Enclave. "But you Marauders have been playing pranks and getting detention for years," Dakota echoed.

"Still, Dumbledore said so," he shrugged. "Lily I understand, but _James_? I'm sorry, but I can't believe it," Rumer blinked her big eyes repeatedly. "Believe it, Rumer," the boy in question entered, Lily behind him. "Lily! Say it isn't so!" Dakota sounded pleading. "I'd be lying if I said he wasn't, so he really is," Lily said mournfully. "James Potter running around with authority; I just don't see that picture happening," said Rumer. "It's already happened, Rumer, and I can take points from Gryffindor under the premise that you're being disobedient to the rules," Potter stated matter-of-factly. "Lily! The Head Boy is being abusive of his role as Head Boy!" Rumer looked to Lily, who then shot Potter a glare before saying, "Potter, don't be immature. That badge you have isn't a pass to blackmail, prank, take, bully or inflict pain. It's to uphold Hogwarts rules and policies."

Remus hid a small smile. Sirius shot him a look. "Besides, Potter, if you get detention, and Gryffindor has a game, I'll be playing Seeker in your place," smirked Rumer. He remembered—she was their reserve. "That's never going to happen, Sable. You're going not getting any play this year, just like last year, and the years before," James countered. "We'll see about that," she was still smirking. "I just realised!" Dakota said quite suddenly. "What?" asked Lily. "There'll be one free bed in our dorm, because you're going to stay in the Heads' dorm. It'll only be me, Rue, Marlene, and Alice," responded the blonde. "How is this relevant again?" Rumer raised a brow. "If you're asking how it's relevant to Quidditch, it's not. But, it _is _relevant to the fact that somebody might make a request to move dorms, and out the goodness of her heart, our dear Lily will give her bed to that girl, regardless of her nature, and we'll be stuck with that girl all year," Dakota concluded matter-of-factly. "Honestly, `Kota, sometimes I wonder how you think of all these scenarios," Lily smiled at her.

"I think of all the possible realities, Lil. That's just one of my theories—another would be that it'll be the home of Rue's new broom," Dakota nudged Rumer, wagging her eyebrows. "You got the Cleansweep? But you don't even play!" James exclaimed. The fact that the newest, fastest broom on the market went to the Seeker reserve was pure injustice to him. "Dad thought I'd need it," she was smirking again. "It's fine, Prongs. I got some new equipment too; I got myself a Beater's bat to replace the one you broke in August," Sirius told his best friend. "It wasn't my fault the Bludger went rogue," shrugged the black-haired boy. "You got a new bat, Padfoot?" Peter squeaked. "Yeah, I did," he replied. Dakota scooted over to accommodate Lily, practically squeezing Rumer against the wall. James sat on the floor of the compartment, the Head Boy badge gleaming.

"Remus," Rumer piped up, "What is that book about?" Remus didn't respond. Taking it upon himself to Remus back to the world we inhabit, he snapped in front of his friend's face, "Moony. Sable asked you a question." The boy mentioned looked up, "Yes?" Rumer repeated herself, "What's that book about?" he replied, "About this young wizard called Valerius Frigg who ventures into the Muggle world and meets a closed society of Muggles who call themselves the Technicolor Enclave." Dakota condensed all of this down to, "A bunch of weed-smoking Muggles, basically." Remus chuckled, "There _is _some weed-smoking, but not every character."

They went on like that for a while, talking about weed-smoking Muggles, Muggles in general, how they were different from weed-smoking wizards, or how they were different from wizards in general. Some moments he caught himself looking at Rumer, when she spoke, or when she held her hair, or when she blinked. He didn't know why he did this—he never really paid much attention to her before. _It's the hair_, he decided, _the novelty of the new haircut will wear off, and I won't think much of her again. _But he forgot that decision when he saw her smile; it was a smile that held questions and answers, mysteries and clarity. Of all the smiles he'd seen on a girl, this was a smile that was complicated, and simple. It was genuine. It was real. It wasn't a smile pasted on her face for the sake of appearances. It wasn't a drawn-on smile that hid problems. It was a _smile._

He looked out the window. The green pastures would make him forget what he thought of Rumer Sable's smile, yes, that was what those pastures would do. He looked away from the window to see what was going on, and as if she was doing the same thing, she caught his eye. It was a glance that said,_ what're you doing looking at me, Sirius Black? _He shrugged, looked out the window, and ignored her reflection in the glass.

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><p><em>Why was Sirius Black looking at me? <em>Rumer thought as she took her place at Gryffindor table, between Lily and Dakota, across Marlene and Alice. The Sorting Hat said its song, which she didn't have the patience to pay attention to, Dumbledore said his usual start of term speech, and the food appeared before them, along with the gold plates, goblets, and silver flatware. The year before, the Marauders staged their start of term prank, as they had years previous to that of the last. Last year it involved curly scarlet and gold streamers falling from the bewitched ceiling, which twined itself in your hair and only came off if you said a certain charm. The teachers were on edge—there was no telling whether or not the Marauders had a follow-up prank to last year's year-end prank of filling the entire castle with Snitch-sized balls of glass, making it seem like some demented version of a Muggle ball pit. Filch, the caretaker, was in a corner of the Great Hall, ready with his hand curled up into an angry, gnarled fist. Rumer toyed with her food, waiting for something big to happen.

Rumer, along with the teachers and students, waited for nothing. All the Marauders did was eat their food, casually talk among themselves, and bear no semblance of a group of people who were responsible for something. She looked to Lily with an expression of _hey, not a bad start for this term _on her face. "Do you think they really have matured?" Dakota whispered in her ear. She shook her head and whispered back, "I bet they're just biding their time, waiting for the right moment. You know how they are." Dakota nodded. The feast was over after a while, and they began the jaunt up the staircases to Gryffindor Tower. The Marauders were the first before the portrait hole. "_Eversor lumen_," said Remus Lupin, the most responsible out of all the Marauders. "Wait, I've perfected it!" the Fat Lady exclaimed, drawing breath to shatter that blasted glass.

"Please let us in," Dakota wiggled through the crowd that had gathered to plead to the Fat Lady. "You're adorable, Keighley, but I've really perfected it this time, I'm going to show you!" that was the cue for everyone to cover their ears. "Honestly, I imagine twenty years from now that some other batch of Gryffindors will be suffering this," she told Marlene, who happened to be right beside her. Marlene nodded with a slight giggle. "That was lovely; I've never heard anything like it. Don't waste it on us, though," said Dakota weakly. "Yes! The other portraits should hear of this! Come in, come in!" the portrait swung open, and everyone walked in.

"My head hurts," Alice said as they went up the steps to the girls' tower, hand to the side of her head. That was when Marlene noticed something sparkling on her left ring finger. "MERLIN, SHE'S ENGAGED!" she cried, holding it up to the light. Rumer looked at the modest but not unattractive rock with a smile, "Congratulations, Alice." The girl smiled back, "Thanks, Rue." She knew it was only time until Frank Longbottom proposed—Alice was kind-hearted, pretty, and clever. Most people would have dwelled on the pretty aspect, but she couldn't blame them for it; Alice really was, with her dimpled smile, shoulder-dusting light brown hair, and honest brown eyes. If you told her that she was pretty, she would softly thank you for the compliment, but redirect the conversation to another topic. "I can't believe it! You're getting married!" Marlene wasn't over it.

"We're having a June wedding, so it won't be for another nine months or so. Frank and I both want to finish school first, we've spent too much time here not to leave properly," Alice said, "You, Lily, and Rue are invited, by the way. I need all three of you months before, though, so you can help me plan. Grace—," Alice mentioned her younger sister, "is over the moon. She doesn't know whether she's more excited to be my bridesmaid or the fact that she'll be getting my room at home when I leave." Marlene chuckled, "I think she's more excited about getting your room, but in any event, of course! We'll help choose fabrics and flowers, taste cakes and drinks, bands and venues. Won't we, Rue?" Marlene looked pointedly at her, as if to say, _agree to what I'm saying, she needs this support right now. _"Of course!" she echoed, a bit too happily for her own tastes.

Alice smiled feebly, "Thank you, and if you'd let me, I'm going to lie down now, my head is really quite painful now." Marlene was concerned by this, "Was it because of us? Oh, I'm so sorry, Alice!" the brunette of the moment simply waved her off, "No, it wasn't you. Or you, Rue, if you're going to start feeling guilty now. I was just a tad bit affected by the Fat Lady." Rumer took this as cue to let her lie down, "Lie down, Alice, it'll be better in the morning. Marlene and I will leave you alone now." She motioned with a slight nudge of the head toward the door to take her leave. Thankfully, Marlene noticed this and silently opened the door, went outside, waited for Rumer to leave, and closed it as quietly as she'd opened it. "Where do we go?" asked Marlene in a low voice, seeing as they were just making their way down the girls' staircase to the common room.

"We're obviously in the common room now," she stated plainly, "and this is where we've gone." Marlene shook her head, but she was smiling. "Thanks for that, Captain Obvious," she said finally, huge and sparkling sapphire eyes set in a golden complexion expectant under a line of honey-blond fringe, "OK, what do we _do_?" this was what she hadn't considered. If she was alone she would have found a piece of parchment and started drawing, but it wasn't an activity for two people. She watched Marlene's face, the chubby cheeks puffed out and deflating as she let out a blast of air through the perpetually yet unintentionally pouted pink lips.

Before she could open her mouth to speak, an auburn-haired boy came sauntering over to their spot near the girls' staircase, swaggering in his gait. He wasn't much taller than Marlene, who was about 5'6. "Hey, Marlene," he spoke cockily, like she wasn't even there. _Not like I'd want attention from some creep_. "Hello, do I know you?" asked Marlene politely. "No, but I bet you'd like to," winked the boy, "I'm Ozzy, Ozzy Cutler." Rumer gave this character a once-over and concluded that he was just feigning arrogant confidence and had never spoken to anyone remotely as lovely as Marlene. "It's nice to meet you, but I didn't think of you until now, and I think you should really get back to your group of friends, they seem anxious to have you back," Marlene gestured to a cluster of boys that were talking in low voices to each other and looking at them. She said this kindly, and if she were told something like that, she wouldn't get hurt at all. "Would you want me to go back to them?" he raised one eyebrow. "I think she does," she finally interjected, "or haven't you noticed?"

"No, actually, I haven't—," Ozzy was supposed to reply haughtily, but he then turned around and realised how much taller she was than he. "—noticed," he finished after a three-second pause. _Is it me, or does he look afraid? _"I didn't notice that. Thanks for pointing it out. Sorry," he scurried away, the swagger in his gait gone. "Wow, I don't know whether to laugh or pity him. Being let down gently by the original girl, and having to deal with the girl's friend, who completely rejects him! I'm going to try my hand at not laughing," the blonde hid a smile behind a small hand. "You're going to fail—miserably, I might add," she responded, a grin surfacing. "Come on, before he sees," Marlene dragged her into an alcove hidden from view. "That was awful," she said, before exploding into a fit of giggles. "I can't believe you did that either, Rue," chortled the pretty blonde.

They stayed there for a while, laughing it off, until Marlene said, "We can't just hide here forever, let's go into the common room." She nodded, and perhaps came out of the alcove too fast, because she quite literally bumped into someone. _Thank Merlin I didn't trip. _She glanced up to see who she'd just inconvenienced, and met the grey eyes of a certain Marauder. "Sorry," she muttered, averting his gaze and brushing past him. She didn't like the way he looked at her; it made her uncomfortable. "Yeah, sorry," he said as she passed by. Marlene was on her heels while she went straight back up the girls' staircase and to their dorm, suddenly tired.

She entered her room to find Alice, sound asleep. With a sigh, she sat down on her bed and drew the curtains, still-on robes be damned. She heard footfalls, different in pace, meaning two people had gone in. They crept past Alice's bed and slowly drew the curtains. It was Dakota's face that welcomed her first, sitting at the edge of her bed, drawing the curtains again. "Marlene went to bed," she began, green eyes focused on hers, "and like her, I'm confused by your actions." She sighed again, gaze resting on her friend's eyes. They were green, like Lily's, but wider and darker in their greenness. Dakota leaned forward slightly, no hair moving with the motion, seeing as her gold-coloured hair was in a pixie cut. Her cheekbones were sharp; her lips adequately sized but relatively thin. A dusting of freckles peppered her feminine nose, the apples of her cheeks.

Dakota rested an elegant olive-skinned hand on the back of her own. "Look, you can tell me. You're not usually like this." She let out a blast of air. "I don't usually get unwelcome attention, either." Dakota's fair brows furrowed together, "What do you mean?" she took a deep breath, "When you bump into someone, you don't look at them after you've collided, right?" at this her friend shook her head, "You just say sorry and go on your way." She wasn't done explaining it. She wouldn't be able to describe it, the discomfort of being looked at, not with Dakota looking at her at that precise moment. "You look at someone when they're speaking, right?" the blonde before her nodded, her legs tucked under her, hands on her knees. "When you've glanced at the window, you don't look at them once they've finished talking, right?" Dakota was confused for a moment, and then nodded again. "So, do you understand my problem now?" she raised both brows in question. "I sort of do, yeah, but just one question—who's the creep who's been looking at you far too much?"

"Promise not to tell?" she asked. "I swear on Merlin's grave," said Dakota. "Sirius Black," she whispered in her ear. "You're joking," her friend didn't even laugh when she spoke these words. "No, I'm not. Don't you remember him on the train?" _I'm half in hysterics here! Can you not see that? _"Oh—_oh_! Yeah, he _was _staring at you. I even caught him looking at you when you held your hair real quick. I would've said that perhaps it was just the haircut, but you bumped into him and he looked at you _after _you bumped into each other," Dakota stroked her chin in thought. "It's creepy," she said. "Yes, but you've got to admit it's flattering. If it were someone else, maybe you'd be feeling _really _odd. But it's _Sirius Black _we're talking about here. If he's been staring at you, then you must've caught his attention," stated Dakota matter-of-factly, "You're really lucky."

"No, I'm not. I have a boy looking at me funny. It's rotten luck, if it's luck at all."

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><p><strong>What do you think of it? Was it too much, too soon? Was it the opposite? <strong>

**Constructive criticism is **_**very **_**welcome. If you've got a question about something in this chapter, don't hesitate to put it in a review.**

**Thanks for reading!**

—**Elly**


	2. Day Tripper

**Oh, how lovely, you wanted to read some more of it, and the magic arrow brought you here. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, or Sirius Black. Anything familiar from the Harry Potter series is property of J.K. Rowling. **

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><p>"What was that all about?" asked James as he plopped down on his bed in their dorm room. "What was what all about?" he replied, removing his robes and setting them aside. "That little commotion you caused in the common room," Peter said, "the one with Rumer Sable bumping into you and your fan girls screaming bloody murder." He chuckled and took his time, pulling his jumper over his head and undoing his tie. "It wasn't that much of a commotion, Wormtail. Sable bumped into me, and I made sure she didn't trip. Not much to say about the matter, really," he responded, unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke, finding a T-shirt and pulling it over his head in the place of the starched white Oxford shirt. "She said sorry and you would've walked off. But you didn't," James was convinced there was something more to that collision. <em>Don't even think about it, Prongs.<em>

"I just finally realised that it's rude to leave a girl you've just bumped into without making sure she was OK and tried it out, why the fuss?" he lied, concealing it with his usual air of disinterestedness. "It was strange for them, Padfoot," said Remus, closing _Valerius Frigg and the Technicolor Enclave_ and setting it on his nightstand, meaning he'd finished it already. "You're not like that with every girl that bumps into you." James interjected with a smirk, "Usually the girls bump into him on purpose." At this all four boys laughed. "They do that _precisely _so he'll ask if they're OK," added Frank, who'd just come in from the common room. "Why, if it isn't the fiancé of the year; we didn't expect you to be coming in tonight, Frank," James said. "Alice is asleep, she got a bit affected by the Fat Lady," explained the boy who occupied the last bed in their dormitory suite.

"I forgot to congratulate you, Frank," Remus stood up from his bed to pat Frank on the back in a brotherly manner, "You're a lucky man." Frank nodded and smiled, "Yeah, I know. Alice is pretty something, isn't she?" Peter agreed to this, "Indeed she is." James made a face, "Enough with the cheese talk—I know you love her, Frank, but I just can't take too much of that." At this, Frank, a boy who usually spoke in a near-whisper, let out a booming laugh, "This coming from James Potter, who can't seem to get his mind off of a certain redhead." James turned a shade of pink, "I haven't mentioned Lily in the way you mention Alice!" he smirked, "Nobody said anything about Evans, Prongs." Peter cut in teasingly, "Prongs and Evans, sitting in a tree. K-i-s-s-i-n-g." He looked to Peter, "Don't be so childish, Wormtail. I say he's trying to get way past that, isn't he?"

James nodded, but added mournfully, "She won't even go out with me." Remus muttered under his breath but audible enough for Sirius to hear, "With friends like Wormtail, it's no wonder she won't." He let out his own bark-like laugh, "Right you are, Moony." Peter shot Remus a dark look, the boy in question shrugged, he laughed, and James was too busy bemoaning his problems to the air to pay attention. "She thinks I'm immature, that I can't take anything seriously. We didn't hold a start of term prank, did we?" James looked to him and he nodded, just to humour his friend. "She should know how much restraint that really took!"

"I think she does, Prongs, but it's not like she'd tell you right away."

The truth of the matter was that he was steering away the conversation. Actually, stopped her for a moment on purpose; Rumer Sable was actually quite gorgeous, and he was hoping that she took his glances as hints that he wanted to go out with her—at the very least, shag her. He didn't tell his friends that when they had swum at Dakota Keighley's pool he watched her leave (more specifically her wet sundress-clad form). He didn't tell his friends that Rumer, whatever she had against him, would be his very soon. He knew it would happen. He was, after all, Sirius Black.

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><p>"How awful, Potions early in the morning," said Dakota the morning after, on the first official day of school. "Potion ingredients love you, what've you got to worry about?" she responded, brushing the tangles out of her long hair. She'd been taking a tablespoon of a potent hair-growing potion every day since her birthday, the tips of her hair edging downward ever since. She loved the fringe too; it made her look more cosmopolitan. Once she was assured that it was dry, she fixed the fringe over her wide forehead. She didn't like that fact, that her forehead was too big. Dakota said it made her look unique, and it complemented her eyes, which were large and tawny. "Slughorn doesn't think much of me, I'm a Muggle-born," sighed her friend, brushing hair out of her eyes and straightening the lay on her tie. "It doesn't matter, he hasn't failed you completely."<p>

"Still," Dakota finished her ritual and slung her book bag over her shoulder, "It helps." She chuckled, made sure the fringe was properly arranged, and slung her own book bag over her shoulder. They walked down the girls' staircases, out the common room, and made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Marlene was waiting for Alice, who was curling her hair in the name of first day. They walked into the Great Hall, chattering amicably about excitement over the first day. Dakota had gotten a leak of her timetable, and she was just waiting for hers. McGonagall placed a piece of parchment by her cup of tea as she stirred in a sugar cube. "Enjoy, Miss Sable," said her Head of House, and moved on to the next student. Monday read like this: Potions, Arithmancy, History of Magic, lunch, History of Magic, Ancient Runes, Herbology, and Astronomy in the evening.

It was not well-known at Hogwarts, much like Rumer herself, but she was actually quite clever. She liked Arithmancy because she didn't think numbers could tell what a person was like, but it was fun trying to base a judgment on a piece of parchment with numbers on it. She took Ancient Runes because there was something about symbols that drew her to them, regardless of the fact that she was not very artistic. The one subject she could not surmount, however, was Potions. She knew what to do and how to do it, but when she did try doing it, she always ended up failing. She didn't understand that, either. But that was the story of her life.

"Black, you better show up to _all _your classes. No cutting," McGonagall said as she stopped Sirius Black mid-step. _Wow, he looks really good. _She blinked, as if she couldn't control that small voice who spoke that sentence. "Of course, Minnie, you know me well enough that I could never," smirked Black, running his fingers through his dark hair, the fan girls nearby swooning. She resisted an eye roll and sipped her tea. "That's pretty tame, considering what the Marauders usually pull," observed Dakota in a low voice. She shrugged. Much to her, and Dakota's, she guessed, surprise, the Marauders sat astonishingly near them. Specifically, Sirius Black was on her right. "Morning, Sable," he greeted her coolly, his fan girls shooting daggers at her. "Morning," she answered curtly. "Morning, Dakota," Remus said. "Morning, Remus," responded Dakota softly.

It was silent, but for the scraping of cutlery against the gold plates or teaspoons hitting the sides of teacups. "Well, what would you know," said Sirius, the first to break the silence, "We've got Potions this morning." They (that is, she and Dakota) left wordlessly, knowing that a conversation would follow that they weren't privy to. "That was awkward," Dakota remarked when they were in the corridor, "Their cult-like rituals got in the way of normal conversation." She didn't bother with a reply. She was too relieved by the fact that he wasn't flat out looking at her anymore and making her uncomfortable. "Anyway," luckily, Dakota was used to her not answering, so she only kept talking, "Remus is nice. He's the most decent one, except for the fact that he's tolerating their immature pranks instead of telling them off." At this she said, "That would be a crappy friend."

"Point," smiled her friend, "I suppose that whole voice of reason thing only extends to it being a voice—it doesn't mean they listen."

* * *

><p>"Time to change it up!" said Slughorn brightly, so brightly that he inwardly cringed. 'Change it up'meant they were changing partners. "Let's see...Evans and Potter, Lupin and Keighley—,"<em> Looks like Prongs' prayers have been answered. <em>"Black and Sable," the walrus-man trailed off and he nearly jumped at the mention of his name. Dakota Keighley left her seat vacant, meaning he had to come to her. _No problem_, he sauntered over to the stool and sat down. Rumer moved her hair from her back to her side, so she plaited it as Slughorn gave instructions to brew Amortentia, the love potion. Out the corner of his eye, he saw her roll her large eyes.

"I'll be honest, Black, I'm going to screw it up, so I'll get the ingredients, and you brew it," she stood up and shook her hair free of the plait. She bent over the cabinet, and he didn't look, because that would be against what he knew was classy. She came back with the appropriate ingredients, and he made it in silence, occasionally asking her to pass him something from her end of the table. He was going to be mature about it, because he had an inkling that she liked maturity. His elbow brushed hers a couple of times, but he knew he'd done it well, because it said so in the book that it would turn the exact colour it was then. Smells wafted up and out.

First he detected crisp air when it rushed toward one's face in a Quidditch match, broom polish, and a faint scent of freshly-cut carnations. "Good work!" Slughorn stopped at their table to say this, "Now, tell me what you smell." He said it in a bored fashion, "Air, broom polish, and flowers." Slughorn nodded toward Rumer, "And you, Miss Sable?" she looked at the man with neutral eyes, "Smoke, caramel, and this sort of woodsy scent I've never smelled before." This seemed to excite the man, "Oho! It must be the scent of somebody new! Splendid, carry on!" the man waddled over to another table, and she twisted her hair into a bun. "Damn it," she couldn't flick her wand fast enough to tie it, so it fell in a brown mantle down her back. Just when it hit her body, for a moment, he caught a whiff of carnations, but shrugged it off, "Do you need any help, Sable?"

"Just wrap the tie around the bun, please," she passed him an elastic and twisted her hair back up. He held it, looped it around the bun as he'd seen other girls do, and let go. There was a quick glide of his fingers over her nape, and her body was still at his touch. "Thanks," she said, turning on his side, her profile in view. It was lovely. "Erm," he cleared his throat, "Could you pass me the vials on your side?" she picked up the two vessels and put them in his outstretched palm, her icy fingertips against his palm. Electricity crackled from her to him, but he was sure it wasn't just him who'd felt it. They locked eyes; he fixed her with his dark stare.

She spooned some of the Amortentia into the vial, as if they hadn't been looking at each other in a way that indicated something other than the passing fancy. "It makes me wonder what would happen if somebody put this into my drink," Rumer spoke, but he didn't think it was for him, the sentence. "I got slipped one once," he admitted. Her eyes widened. "You're joking." He shook his head, "It was in fifth year." She smirked, "Who was it?" he thought about it for a moment then recalled, "Piper Shelley." Rumer chuckled, "Was she in our year?" he shook his head, "The year below us." She nodded then asked, "How'd it feel like, under Amortentia?"

"You just feel an insatiable need to get to know and to be with the person who gave it to you. The affections aren't real, anyway. It's good if you want to mess around with someone for a while, but Shelley wasn't very much my...type," he responded. "Ah, yes, because you're you, and you only like buxom blondes," Rumer said. "Depends," he shrugged. "Are you up for a bet, Sirius Black?" her eyes twinkled. "Why not," he smirked. "We've got Amortentia left over. We'll slip each other some, and won't tell. We'll use half a vial each. Whoever cracks under the potion first loses and has to pay the winner. I don't like you at all, Black, and that's why it's perfect. It'll be a study in the efficiency of your potion-making," she concluded. "OK, how much?" he countered. "Two galleons," she wagered. "You've got a deal, Rumer Sable," he extended a hand. She shook it.

* * *

><p>"That was an awful idea!" Dakota cried when she relayed what happened in Potions. She hadn't felt anything yet, so it meant he hadn't slipped her anything. The vial of potion was warm in the pocket of her robes. "Why do you think that?" she asked. "For one thing, you could get raped or something!" Lily cut in. "Why did you think to do that?" asked Marlene. "I dunno, felt like it. I've never been under the influence of a potion before, so I made the trying more fun," she shrugged. "You could've picked the Draught of the Living Dead, but no, you chose Amortentia," sighed Alice. "Sleeping potions are boring. I'll be fine, what're you so worried about?"<p>

"You, or haven't you noticed?" Lily exhaled. "I'll be fine. It's just a potion, for Merlin's sake. It's not like I've pinned my soul to an altar," she replied. "That's what I'm afraid of," Alice pointed out, "what if, in the rush of the Amortentia, you marry him by accident?" she'd been drinking water then, and promptly swallowed before she spit it out. "That's highly improbable," she said finally, "I'm not the marrying sort, not even subconsciously." Dakota squared her shoulders, "We just have your welfare in mind, Rue. We'd never want you to get hurt or anything like that." She managed to laugh, "Why would I get hurt when I feel nothing?"

"That's what scares us," Marlene noted, "You're repressed, so the Amortentia will unleash all of that. Where will you pick yourself up when the potion wears off and you're depressed?" she smiled at her, "I've got you lot, haven't I?" Lily rolled her eyes, but she was smiling when she said, "Don't be smart." She grinned wickedly at the redhead, "But you know I am, Lily." Alice giggled, "Point taken, but still, we're worried about you."

"Don't worry about me. You don't need to," she said this as she walked into her Arithmancy class, her friends turned the corner, and she was alone again.

* * *

><p>"You're saying <em>Sable<em> started it up?" asked James, looking incredulous. "Yeah," he nodded. "That's not like her at all," Remus said. James looked at him sharply, "How would _you_ know, Moony?" Remus shrugged, "She's been in my Arithmancy class since I started." The black-haired one started to chuckle, "Ah, Moony." He looked to the one who was apparently responsible for them all, "So, when do you propose I slip it to her?" James' eyes widened, "You can't be seriously considering it, can you?" he nodded, "Sounds like fun, if you ask me." His best friend shrugged, "Whatever you say, Padfoot. Well, Moony? What's the verdict?" Remus tapped his chin in thought. "Hypothetically, since I don't believe you should subject her to something like that even if she chooses to, I think you should do it tomorrow. By then her initial excitement would have worn off, a neutral ground for the potion to work. That is, in theory; please note that I am neither for nor against this decision to slip Rumer Sable a love potion," concluded the flax-haired bookworm, retrieving his dog-eared Defence text.

"Believe me, Moony," he held the vial in his hand and inspected the liquid, "You had no part in this whatsoever."

* * *

><p>"Do you feel any different today?" asked Dakota worriedly. "Not really, no. I don't think he'd be so clever as to slip me the potion when I'm asleep," she responded. "It's possible, you know," Alice cut in, "My cousin Mary had a rush of love for a boy she didn't know one morning, little did she know he was her neighbour and went through the bathroom window when she was asleep to give it to her." Marlene shuddered, "Enough of that. Have you seen Lily?" they went down to the Great Hall, where the Head Girl met up with them, book bag slung over one arm and a sheaf of papers tucked under the other. "There are so many things I wish I could take points off for, but that would be classified as an abuse of my powers, so I can't do anything about them," Lily said by greeting, "Just going down from the Head's dorm I saw two people snogging in the hallway." Marlene chuckled, "Ah, Lil, you can't take points off for being in love. Or else you'd have to take off seventy from your new roommate." At the mention of Potter she sighed, "Don't even get me started on Potter."<p>

Yet, compared to all the sighs she'd made before in relation to Potter, it seemed half-hearted. To Rumer, that is. She'd been friends with Lily long enough to know the language of her sighs. "Lily, what's wrong?" she asked. Lily shook her head, "Nothing, Rue." She narrowed her eyes at her friend, "Lily, you're not telling me something." Marlene and Alice went silent, while Dakota added softly, "You know you can tell us." The truth of it was, Marlene and Alice were closer to each other than they were to her, Lily, and Dakota. They just happened to be placed with each other in first year. The three of them could share anything with one another. "We'll get a place, alright?" Marlene informed them, which was basically code for _we'll leave you lot alone now. _"OK, now the gossipy ones have gone," Lily exhaled, "I think Potter has actually gotten better this year. Mature."

"Lily Angeline Evans, I think I might accuse you of libel. Are you saying he's _growing up_?" her mouth hung open. "I dunno. But he's really polite, doesn't pester me as much as before, and stays out of my way when it looks like I'm busy. When I'm not busy, the small talk he makes is actually decent. It's like somebody went and got Potter a personality change," Lily explained. "If he asked you to go out with him, would you?" asked Dakota. "I'd consider it, for once. Usually I decline straight up," shrugged the redhead. "You're joking," she managed to close her mouth and ask in a much resolved voice. "No, I'm serious. Also, speaking of Sirius—do you feel any different today?" _oh great, she's shifted the conversation to me. Really, this paranoia is annoying. _"Dakota already asked me this morning when I woke up, and I still don't feel any different; back to topic."

"I hate it when you know I changed it to drive the conversation away from me," Lily half-smiled, "OK, so maybe he's growing on me. I mean, it's been a few days, and he hasn't pulled anything. I just think he's changing, is all." Dakota nodded seriously, "But if he pulls something I guarantee you that I will destroy him myself, and it shall be a slow and excruciatingly painful destruction on his part." She added, "That is, she'll destroy the remains of the castrated flesh that is the sign that you have had enough of him." Their friend laughed, "That's enough murderous thoughts for now, girls, let's sit." So they did, taking a spot not too far from Marlene and Alice, who had started talking with Mary MacDonald. "I'm going to watch your tea very carefully while you butter that scone," the short-haired blonde in their trio narrowed her eyes at the innocent cup of earl grey.

"Relax, `Kota. You have to eat," she pushed the plate of kippers in her direction. "I can eat _and _monitor at the same time, I have you know," responded Dakota, taking one and biting into it. "Let's take shifts watching the earl grey," Lily said jokingly, "I eat now, then I'll monitor it when you're eating." She drank most of it, "Really, Dakota, you're taking it _so _seriously. It's too early to be serious. Just relax and you'll know if anything's happened to me. I promise you." Her friend looked doubtful, but resigned to herself and ate. "Lily, have you got a minute? Some prefects have got questions," Potter strode up to them. "Go ahead, then," Lily wiped her mouth on the corners of her napkin and looked to the group of prefects that had crowded around her and Potter. Around the same moment, Remus bumped into Dakota just as she was rising from the table for class.

"Oh, sorry," Dakota apologised. "No, it's my fault. Reading and walking does not make one more perceptive," Remus put up the latest book he'd be devouring. She saw her friend read the title and exclaim, "_After Many a Summer Dies the Swan_? I've read that!" a ghost of a smile flashed across the boy's face, "Have you really?" _you should know, Remus, that when you get Dakota Keighley started on a topic she feels very passionately for, she'll never stop talking about it. _Quietly she slipped away from the crowd of prefects, Dakota and Remus, and then made her way over to the less congested end of the table, where Marlene and Alice were seated. "Hi," she said, "can I sit here?" she posed the question to Marlene, who nodded and gestured to the open space on her right. She settled down and found herself in front of Alice. Mary MacDonald had left already.

"Wait, you shouldn't be here!" Alice said all of a sudden, making her jump. "Why not?" she asked, utterly confused. Marlene seemed to understand what Alice was trying to say, "This would be the perfect opportunity for Sirius to slip the potion into your drink!" _oh, shite. Now I remember. _"Thanks for reminding me!" she was up like a shot, running back to the still congested area around Lily and Potter, Remus having led the conversation with Dakota to the quieter end of the table. "That should have answered all your questions, now off with you, I haven't finished breakfast," she heard the Head Girl say. There was a chorus of apologies as the crowd dispersed. "Lily," she said, while her friend buttered a slice of toast, "Did you see Sirius Black in that crowd? Or even an unfamiliar hand from outside the circle pouring something into my tea?" Lily paused, looked thoughtful for a moment, realised what she meant, and replied in a horrified voice, "Oh, I didn't! I was so busy with the prefects I didn't think to watch your drink!" then a thought nagged at the back of her mind,

"You don't think Potter showing up with the Prefects and Remus running into Dakota was a ploy to distract us from my drink, do you?"

"I don't think he would think up such an elaborate scheme. You can't make up so many relevant questions, distribute them to the prefects of all four houses, and have them come up to me with him at the same time. If it was planned, the prefects would have sounded like they were reciting a speech. They're not very good at lying, you see, as is expected. As for Remus—wait, what about Remus running into Dakota?" Lily asked, and she relayed what she'd been privy to. "Well, that doesn't sound like it was planned. He couldn't have possibly known she's read that particular book, Dakota's not a reader by nature. Besides, he's too sensible to play such an important role in their plan to stalk her and find out if she's read that book. Though, if he _did_ stalk her, I don't think it's for the general vision of the Marauders. I think it's because, oh, I dunno, the fact that Remus Lupin has had the biggest crush on our Dakota Keighley for years? You'd think she'd notice, but she's too busy keeping her attraction to him a secret." She laughed, "I think it's because she loves keeping secrets."

Lily laughed back, "She loves making the commonest things a secret, I think that's his primary source of appeal, aside from the obvious fact that she's beautiful." She let out a sigh, "This coming from the girl who has been a million times named the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts." Her friend only smiled, "Oh, stop. We've got Defence, shall we go ahead or wait for Marlene or Alice or Dakota?" she shrugged, "Dakota will come when she wants to come, there's no use trying to rush her. Marlene and Alice have got each other, unless you want to wait for them, that is." Lily shook her head, "I really want to get to class early today; the lesson's interesting."

She finished the last of her tea in one gulp, linked her arm with Lily's, and made her way to her first class.

* * *

><p>"Well? Did she take it?" he looked to Peter, who was the last person Rumer or any of her friends would think to be wary of, in other words the most potent close-range spy. "She drank it all before she went to class," Peter reported, "Which is where we should be going." He waved the shorter boy off, "I'll wait for Moony, and you go ahead." Peter nodded, "Prongs is probably up there already." Soon enough, Remus spotted him and walked up, with a noticeably springier step, he noted. "Looks like your unwarranted distraction benefitted more than just me," he said, "How did it go with Dakota?" Remus smiled, a quiet one that was the equivalent of James jumping up and down on the common room couch. "She'd really read it. I didn't even expect her to know about it, but she did. She said she loved it. I thought she'd just say she thought Huxley was good-looking or something shallow like that. Instead she said she loved it. I'd tell you why, but it's a long list. She talks a lot, too. I suppose if one had a voice like she does, they wouldn't keep it inside of them. Er, am I rambling?"<p>

"That was the longest sentence I've heard from you this year. Congratulations, Moony," he patted him on the back, "So Miss Keighley has that effect on you, has she? We better get you and her a date so we can have some of your valuable inputs in a conversation from time to time." Remus smiled, "Don't count on it too much." His brow creased, "Don't be so horrid to yourself! She'd go out with you, mate." The other boy didn't seem very keen on the idea, "I dunno." _OK, here's the test to see about that. _"Were you rambling and being chatty when you were talking?" Remus nodded. He folded his arms over his chest, "There you have it, Dakota Keighley would go out with you. Seeing as you gave me the 'hypothetical,' advice, I'm going to give you some of my own 'hypothetical,' advice. You should ask her to go to Hogsmeade with you and buy her books."

"She's an artist. Why would she want books?" _er, why would she want books again? Oh, yeah. _"Aren't books called a literary art form? She's an artist—she's into art. Books are a kind of art. So, instead of buying her paint, which will run out eventually, you can buy her books, or lend her the books you've read," he replied smartly. "What if she starts asking me to draw in the belief that all people are born artistic?" _really, Moony, that's just too negative. _"Tell her that all people are born artistic, but in different ways. Yours is with writing, hers is with painting." His friend didn't seem to find any loophole to insert some of his rather pessimistic statements into and remarked, "You've really thought it through, haven't you? Finding me somebody who's just like me, but louder and more fun." He laughed, "Moony, to be honest, I just think you need a woman."

"Speaking of women, I've been meaning to ask you—why the sudden interest in Rumer Sable?" asked Remus. "She's fit, in case you haven't noticed," he responded almost automatically. "Yeah, well, Pattie Boyd is fit and you aren't interested in her." _Should I really have to explain myself? Honestly. _He went with the clueless approach, "Who the bloody hell is Pattie Boyd?" _even if I know who she is, I am not going to answer that. _"That Beatle George Harrison's ex-girl—never mind, you don't care. I'll get to my point, Padfoot: the whole potion thing is great if you're just experimenting by yourself, but you're experimenting with another human being's feelings here. There could be some serious—stop laughing, you should've gotten used to this by now—repercussions to your actions while she is, or you are, under the influence of a powerful love potion."

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Moony. I'll be fine. We'll be fine. Well, she's _always _fine." Remus palmed his forehead, and he only laughed.

* * *

><p>There was no question in her subconscious mind that she was under the Amortentia already. In her conscious mind, however, there were only two words, and precisely four syllables being repeated over and over—<em>Sirius Black.<em> Her conscious mind was full of his name, and his face. She'd never really played before, but she suddenly had the urge to go to practice. _He's going to be there. Ooh, he's going to be there, with his Quidditch robe on, with that Beater's bat...Mm. Yes, I'll go to practice today. _Seeing as her subconscious was really just her subconscious and not the consciousness in operation, she was not questioning anything. There was no doubt that he was handsome, but usually she just found him a pretty face to look at, nothing more. But, of course, being under the influence, she found something appealing in the grey eyes and the silky black hair.

"Today shall be devoted to the practice of your nonverbal spells, which you _should _have mastered last year and over the summer," Professor Keaton said threateningly, "How're you supposed to defend yourselves when you're all too busy getting the incantation out of your mouths?" the man looked around at them, "I see what the problem is; you're with your friends, so you just let it slide when they whisper the incantations. No matter, a change in partnership is in order!" if the day before she would have groaned, right then her ears perked up. _I could be paired up with Sirius. Ooh, that's a nice thought. _"I'll say your name and who you're with, find an area, and practice. Keighley and Lupin! Hayes and Longbottom! McKinnon and Pettigrew! MacDonald and Stewart! Evans and Potter! Black and Sable! Don't dawdle, find a spot!" she kept a veneer of indifference on when _he _sauntered over, twirling his wand like a baton. _Sirius. _She blinked, found her wand, and disarmed him. All of which she did without saying a single word. "We've started, then?" he asked in a breezy manner.

"The objective of nonverbal spells is to keep your enemy from knowing you've already cast something, Black," she informed him. "So, am I your enemy now?" he cocked a brow, eyes glinting. _Oh, Merlin. They're gorgeous. My soul was just laid bare. _He disarmed her as quickly as she had moments ago. "Funny," she muttered while she picked up her wand, wondering how she could manage to sound so disgruntled when she was practically semiconscious with desire. Her hand moved as if of its own accord, the wand wrapped up in her fingers emitting the sparks and meriting the usual effects of charms and hexes. She threw a Stun his way, he threw it back, but she cast a quick Shielding Charm, so it didn't affect her. It went on like that for a while; she'd throw something his way, he'd return it, she'd block it, and then it would start all over again. It had become so monotonous that she had momentarily forgotten about the sudden rush of affection. Well, she'd forgotten about it up until the bell rang to signal the end of class, where she had to leave for Ancient Runes.

_Oh, that's sad. I won't see him until later. _Groggy and bored, she collided into something hard and doubled over in pain on her way out. Somebody held their hand out to help, and she took it, swearing heavily and cursing whatever slug left their damned object there. The owner of the hand let out a bark-like laugh. Still aching, she looked up. Like a mirage, he was there, right in front of her. Normally she would have taken it as a strange gesture and fled, but she straightened up and said, "Thanks. Sorry about the long trail of swears, you probably didn't want to hear about that." Sirius smiled, "Ah, it's all right. I'd probably not want to hear about how you wanted to trip—I realise now that the suggestion of it is nonsense, who would want to bump into something painful and get a bruise for the fun of it?" _OK, say it. Say it now before he loses interest. Someone fit is nearby. _"If you're the one helping that poor someone up, I'm sure there would be lines and lines of girls tripping and bumping into things," she said, the undertone to which her voice had taken suddenly playful.

"You take care of yourself, Sable. I might not be there when you fall from somewhere higher," he winked. "Oh, but you're always conveniently nearby when there's a damsel in distress," she walked off with that.

* * *

><p><strong>Second chapter, <strong>_**finir**_**!**

**I know stuff is happening fast, but there are reasons behind these strangely quick goings-on.**

**Also, I am considering changing the title, but I don't know what it should be. I know that the central event that will alter the course of the story is what happened above, with the potion pseudo-bet, but I have no idea what to call it. If you have any suggestions, kindly click that lovely review button down below and tell me, along with anything you'd like to say about this chapter/story (no flames, once again).**

**Yours,**

**Elly Pepperland**


	3. She's So Heavy

**So here we are again! Sorry I haven't updated in ages.**

**To make up for that, this chapter begins with a written conversation between James and Sirius, executed while they are not paying attention in History of Magic class. Sirius' lines are in **_**italics**_**, James' are in BOLD.**

**ERRATUM: In the first chapter there's a mention of the first idea I had to divide the parts of the story [the thing with the lyrics] and I probably confused you all because I didn't include it. Sorry for the bother.**

**You know how the disclaimer goes, now on with the story!**

* * *

><p><em>She can be really flirty if she wants to<em>.

**Oh, yeah? What'd she say?**

"_If you're the one helping that poor someone up, I'm sure there would be lines and lines of girls tripping and bumping into things," then, "Oh, but you're always conveniently nearby when there's a damsel in distress." She sounded all coy, too._

**Well, she's not incapable of flirting.**

_It's the potion, Prongs. She's a total flirt when she's got a potion backing her up. _

**I guess anyone can flirt that hard when you're under the influence of stuff like that. How much did you give her?**

_Half a vial, I think._

**So does that mean she'll be back to normal by nine tonight?**

_I didn't think of that. I'll ask Moony._

**Speaking of Moony, I hear he's got bird on his tail.**

_Yeah, he has. The usual one._

**What do you mean, 'usual one'?**

_The girl he's fancied for ages._

**Marlene McKinnon?**

_Are you daft? He's never fancied Marlene McKinnon._

**I'm tired of guessing.**

_You just had one. I'll give you a hint—she's friends with Lily._

**Sable?**

_No._

**Who is it, then?**

_Think harder, Prongs. You know this girl. To give it away, you've swum in her 'ocean.'_

**Dakota Keighley? I never knew he fancied her.**

_He still does. She makes him talk. Moony's being a pouf about it though, tail between his legs and all, thinking she won't like him._

**Well, does she?**

_I've got an idea._

**Say it, then.**

_I'll ask Sable if she can ask Keighley for Moony. That way, I'll talk to her while she's under the potion (which, as I've proven, is quite interesting) and get information as well._

**Don't girls have this thing for morals?**

_I slipped her a love potion. I think that brings her morals down enough._

**I dunno about that idea of yours, Padfoot.**

_Why? _

**I'm just not sure about it.**

_Eh. I might as well try it out before the potion wears off, which I don't know what time will happen._

**-:-|-:-**

Dinner was a bore, because she couldn't spend it staring at him, and she couldn't eat when she felt restrained. She spent it doing homework under the table. When they got back to the common room Alice wanted to go over things for the wedding, so Marlene and Dakota went with her. She said she was going to read. It wasn't entirely false; she was going to read _The Evening Prophet _where the Marauders could easily access her in case one of them (especially a certain Sirius Black) wanted to talk. Without much fuss, she sat down on the couch by the hearth, unfolded the newspaper, and caught up on the Wizarding world. People were getting killed, it said, the targets mostly muggle-borns and muggles. That sobered her slightly. While she was safely tucked up in a castle fantasising about some boy, the world was in turmoil. She needed to get her priorities straight.

"You seem like the sort of girl to ask for this sort of thing," Sirius plopped down beside her on the couch. "What sort of thing might that be, Black?" her voice was astonishingly even, considering how close he was. _You deserve some sort of recognition for this, Rumer old girl. _"Moon—I mean, Remus—fancies your mate Dakota. D'you think you could ask her if she fancies him back for me?" he asked. _Yes, of course. Always. Anything. _"Why would I breach the wiccan code of trust for something like that, Sirius Black?" she went with that playful approach that had apparently worked so well that morning. "For starters, you get look at this work of art," he gestured to his face, "up close and personal, and I know how much you'd like that. I think that's enough, don't you?" she quirked a brow, "I can look at you from afar, Black. There's no reason for me to do that for you if that's the only thing you offer me as a prize," she shrugged, turning a page in the paper and putting it up to her eyes to read. _Merlin, Rue, you should get a medal for all the acting you're doing. He's too lovely for words._

"Am I just a prize, then?" she put the paper down long enough to see him raise one brow in challenge. _Oh, Morgana help me; that is one sexually appealing expression. _"I bet the House Cup is worth more than you," she said from behind the paper. "I'm deeply offended by that statement, Sable. Make it up to me," he retorted smugly. "Only in your wildest dreams, Black; there's no way I would make up for something I know is true just because it happens to offend you," she responded, not even meeting his gaze. "So you have no concern whatsoever if something offends someone else, as long as you know it's true?" he asked. "You make it sound like I'm terrible. If it offends Lily and I know it's true, I'll stop. If it offends _you_, however, I couldn't care less. What I've been operating on for the past seventeen years is called indifference, and you are no exception to my basic principle. I don't understand what your problem is, anyway. To answer your query, I refuse to ask my friend if she likes your friend. As for you, I think you should leave Remus to find out for himself," she finished.

"Come on, Sable. Remus will never find out for himself if he doesn't have that initial boost of confidence, knowing that she likes him already," he gained a pleading tone in his voice, and she nearly melted at that. "Black, if your friend needs confidence, I think you and the rest of your mates should find him some, without having Dakota lose trust in me by asking her something I know she'd rather keep secret," she responded, wondering how she was even managing to speak when he was looking like _that _mere inches away from her. He raked his fingers through his hair, "Yeah, sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you for something like that. See you round."

With a frown, she looked at the clock. It read nine in the evening. _I don't feel very much in love with you now, Sirius Black._

**-:-|-:-**

"She didn't agree to ask," he whispered to James in the dorm room, when Frank and Peter had fallen asleep. "Who didn't agree to ask?" Remus looked up from the newly-finished _After Many a Summer Dies the Swan. _"Sable. Padfoot asked her if she could ask Keighley if she fancied you," explained James. "Are you mental? She'll tell her friend that and she'll _never _fancy me now!" the normally calm Remus Lupin panicked in a very non-Remus way. "She fancies you, from what I could tell," he said, "Sable was saying how she knew she'd rather keep it secret." Remus sighed, "Great, lads, Rumer knows now too. That was _real_ smart, Padfoot." _I was trying to help you! _"I didn't think of that, I'm sorry, but I don't think she's the type to tell the entire common room that you fancy Dakota Keighley," he responded. "If she starts poking fun at me for it, I'm going to tell her you fancy her," Remus stated matter-of-factly. "You fancy Sable?" James looked utterly puzzled. "She's fit," he shrugged. "But she's _Sable_," his best friend groaned, "Couldn't have you picked Marlene McKinnon?"

"That's the second time you've mentioned her, Prongs—if I didn't know better, I'd say _you _fancied her. She's like the last girl I went out with. I don't like recycling," he said. "Well, if the only reason you fancy Sable is because she's fit, I don't see why you don't like Marlene. She's pretty fit," James countered, "I think you fancy her because she suggested that potion thing." Remus cut in at this, "Has it worn off yet?" he shrugged, "I don't know." James gave up, "Ah, whatever you want to do with her, just not in your room, or while people are there. I've got to go back to my dorm with destiny." With that, James left. "If my opinion is worth anything to you, I think Rumer is a great girl. Better, I believe, than Marlene McKinnon. Good night, Padfoot," Remus went under the covers and drew the curtains before he could say anything to the contrary. _Nice chat, Moony._

Resolutely, he removed his uniform, got into bed, and fell asleep. There was no use in talking to someone who was asleep anyway.

**-:-|-:-**

When she woke up the following morning, her head felt clear. For once, she awoke from a slumber completely refreshed. "You OK?" asked Dakota. She nodded. It was Friday, and she had to go to practice. She was obligated to, not because she was on the team, but because Potter had demanded her presence in the form of an owl. Why he wanted her there, she didn't know. She wore her uniform, found the vial of Amortentia, and decided that she was going to play the game as well. She'd slip it to him when she felt like annoying him, which was usually around lunch, because the Marauders gathered near the lake to pick up girls and she usually tried to study by the lake, hence the ruckus the waiting fan girls created a nuisance. "We'll go ahead, yeah?" her blonde best friend told their other two roommates, who were poring over bridesmaid dresses.

"If you hadn't gone in so late last night," Dakota chastised her as she linked her bony arm with Rumer's, "You would have heard Marlene." _Why would I want to hear about Marlene? She's usually talking about some boy. _"I didn't go in that late, `Kota. I went in at ten. All the chatter had died down because you lot sleep so damn early." Her friend rolled dark green eyes but chuckled, "Anyway, she was going on and on about Black." _This is related to me because...? _"Good for her, sorry for you, how is it my problem?" she replied. "I thought—never mind. Let's just get through this day, yeah?" Dakota smiled. Lily caught up with them in the Great Hall, "Oh, hey." She pulled both friends aside to say, "I'll slip the potion to him now. Lily, you distract Potter. Dakota, talk to Lupin. Merlin knows you both need it. I'll put it in whatever he's drinking. Most of all, make sure even that slimy little boy Pettigrew doesn't see me do it. Just once, girls; just once let me order you around." Lily chuckled, "You don't need to put it like that. Yeah, I'll talk to James." Dakota looked horrified, "_James_?"

"Forget about it," Lily turned pink, "You just concentrate on talking to Remus, let me worry about Jame—I mean, Potter." Dakota narrowed her eyes at the redhead, "OK, I'll talk to him, _and _keep an eye out for Pettigrew. Just make sure you do it fast." She nodded, "You won't even see me do it." She waited for the Marauders to enter, chatting amicably with Lily and Dakota but watching out for them in her peripheral vision. "Make your move quick," Dakota told her in a low voice when Remus settled down on the other end of Gryffindor table. The blonde stood, walked over to his place with the rest of the Marauders, and presumably asked to speak with him, because she sat down beside him and started talking. Lily stood up next, calling Potter's attention, which was almost always with her anyway. _The problem now is the huge posse of devoted fan girls._

There were about five of them, around him like some twisted court to a despotic king. _I can't believe I'm doing this! _Thankfully, the posse had ruined Pettigrew's view entirely, so there was no risk of him watching her do it. _But how do I use the fan girls to distract him while blocking Pettigrew? _She watched his actions for a moment. Yes, he was pretty to look at. There was no doubt about that. But he wasn't looking at any of the five fans who'd decided to gather around him. He was looking blankly into space. _I have an idea. _She stood up, purposefully and all-business, then called his attention in front of all his fan girls. "I've got a question for you, Black." The posse straightened in response to her tone. "What's your question, Sable?" there was a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips. "If our practice in Defence yesterday is the fullest extent of your duelling abilities, how come you're still alive?" his brow only rose slightly in response. "Closer, I can't seem to hear you properly. Sod off," he told the five girls. "What?" cried the first, a blonde. "I said sod off," he ordered. "Er, OK, Sirius."

He stood as if in example, and they fled, throwing her dirty looks over their shoulders. "On my side of the table now; what was your question, Sable?" he asked, his interest seemingly piqued by her approach. She made her way over to his side, leaning on the edge of the table, hands behind her back. "My question," she reached into the pocket of her robes, silently uncorked the bottle, and tipped the half-vial contents of the vessel into the waiting cup of tea, "was, if our practice in Defence yesterday is the fullest extent of your duelling abilities, how come you're still alive?" the glint in his eye was still there, and still as malicious. Then, surprising her, he came close to her, hands flat on the table either side of her body, breath so warm in her ear that the hairs at the back of her neck stood up, "You don't know what the fullest extent of my _abilities_ are, Rumer Sable. If it's all well and good with you, I can show you." _Don't stand there and blush, girl, if you were under the influence of the potion you gave you'd be snogging by now. _"Save it for somebody else," she pushed him off her.

She walked away, returned to her spot, slung her book bag over her shoulder, and waited for Lily and Dakota to show. They did eventually, Dakota taking longer on account of she was the one who would check if he'd taken it (and the fact that her talks with Remus took longer). Lily pulled her aside, "Are you OK? Looked like you were about to get raped or something back there." Dakota came before she could respond, "He drank it all, down to the last drop. He was looking at you when he was drinking, though. Not in the I-think-she-put-something-in-my-drink sort of way, but in a that-bird-is-something kind." She shuddered, "Whatever look he gives is kind of chilling, the hairs at the back of my neck stood up back there." The Head Girl was not happy about this development, "I'm scared for you, Rue." She shrugged, "Nothing to be scared of. What could possibly go wrong with him, right?" Dakota frowned, "There are a million ways where something could go wrong with Sirius Black. You better be careful, or I'm sinking my palette knife deep in that boy's empty box of a heart."

"Ooh, what a delectable thought."

**-:-|-:-**

He swung his new bat then held it with both hands across his nape, the wind blowing his hair away from his face. He really needed to see her again. He needed to be with her. He needed to kiss her. He needed to see what was underneath those robes. He needed her. "Prongs, why did you call her for practice?" he asked. "I wanted to see how her chemistry is with the rest of the team in case I get injured or what. Besides, I need to captain for a while and not just seek," replied James, running his fingers through his hair, "She should be here by now." They waited for a few minutes more before they saw her with her broom in tow, Lily and Dakota on her heels. "You're ten minutes late!" bellowed the Head Boy and Gryffindor Quidditch team captain, "You should be in your robes already!" Rumer flipped him the finger, pulling her vest over her head and undoing her tie. "Are you serious, girl? You're going up in the air wearing _that_?" James gestured to her blouse, skirt, knee socks, and heels ensemble. "I don't care! It's your loss if you look up my skirt and I catch you, then!"

"Whatever! All of you, up in the air, now!" as if she wasn't wearing that skirt, she swung one leg over her broom and kicked off from the ground, beating them all due to the faster broom. "Oh, yeah, _real_ mature, Sable! Rub it in that you've got the new bloody Cleansweep! Get in position!" hollered James, acting very captain-like indeed. _She's got nice legs, _he observed quietly. "Oi, Black. You're by the goals, remember?" she said. "Er, yeah," he muttered, moving to his spot. "The charmed acorn is your Snitch!" Rumer nodded, and got this determined look in her eyes that he found so attractive. "Padfoot, you womanising prig, watch for the bloody Quaffle instead of Sable's back!" this elicited giggles from the few spectators of the practice, his fan girls glaring daggers. "I should say the same for you, Captain! More on our play instead of getting some with Evans!"

He could see Lily turning as red as her hair in the stands, Dakota giggling in response. "Shut up, Padfoot!" James blew his whistle, and their mock-game had begun. They'd gotten a few other people to play as the opposing team. He watched her look carefully around the pitch for the acorn, narrowing her eyes at something then unleashing her hair from its bun and setting off like an arrow. Unbeknownst to him, the Bludger had been let loose as well, and he hadn't been watching for it, so it knocked him nearly off his broom, leaving him hanging from it. Fan girls gasped and screamed. Using it like a bar, he pulled up, and got back on. The fan girls let out a simultaneous sigh of relief. "PADFOOT! Stop staring at Sable and watch out for the Bludger! We can't have you like this during an actual game!" _but she's so beautiful when she sets off for the Snitch, Prongs._

_Oh, shite. I think I said that out loud, _he thought as James palmed his forehead and the fan girls started glaring at Rumer again. "SABLE! Your new position is one metre below and behind Padfoot!" she whizzed over to where James had dictated, his neck craning to watch her while the wind blew her hair away from her face in the most enchanting manner. "NO STARING AT SABLE, PADFOOT!" he whipped his head back around, so fast that he nearly gave himself whiplash. "FOCUS, NOW PLAY!" he kept the Bludger from hitting him, for once, it narrowly avoiding his head. Thankfully, his arm had reacted by itself and hit it at just the right time. "YES, HE'S BACK!" the fan girls cheered, but he was just watching her dive for that charmed acorn afterward, a blur of brown and white and black due to her speed. He looked up again, his fellow Beater taking the Bludger this time.

Practice went on like that for a while, him hitting the Bludger, watching her seek after, letting the other Beater take it, and the cycle starting over again. When James blew his whistle to signal the end of practice, he went down almost as fast as she had and told her, "That was the best seeking I've ever seen in my life." He seemed to forget that his best friend, the Seeker, was actually right there in front of them. "Well, good to know you haven't been appreciating my skills these past five years, Padfoot," James cleared his throat, "Well, Sable, you mix well with the rest of the team, except for the fact that today Padfoot couldn't seem to save a goal in the first few minutes, but I think that problem can be solved," the rest of the team snickered while James shot him a meaningful look, "So, since I'm obviously not indisposed right now, you can breathe easy and not play for a while. Just remember your position; if by the time you're required to play Padfoot's little problem has been solved, get a post that has a vantage point of the entire pitch. If not, you know where to go. Practice over."

"I'll see you around, yeah?" he looked to Rumer. She smirked and replied with, "Yeah, I suppose you will. I'm off, Captain, if that's all good with you." James waved her off, "Yeah, go, go." Rumer said huffily, "You needn't be so pushy. Merlin, looks like _somebody _has their wand in a knot. Bye." She twisted her hair up into a bun (_I can help you do that, I've done it before_), gestured for Lily and Dakota to leave, and left the pitch with her friends, broom over one shoulder. The rest of the team went in the locker room to change out of the sweaty Gryffindor Quidditch shirts and into more comfortable garments. "Anything you'd like to tell me, Padfoot?" asked James suspiciously while he pulled his shirt over his head and put on a fresh white one. "Rumer Sable's gorgeous," he replied, "did you see her today? Damn. She's really clever, too; plus, good at Quidditch. I'd want to be that Snitch if _she_ was seeking." His teammates didn't react—he was always talking about some girl or other and their snogging/bedroom skills. "Uh-huh. Did you feel the same way yesterday?"

"I've felt this way forever, Prongs. She's gorgeous, clever, and probably great in the sack," he concluded. "I don't know how to break this to you, Padfoot, but you and her had a bet a few days ago to give each other Amortentia; according to her conditions, the one who'd fall victim to the potion and do something stupid or obvious would have to pay the winner two Galleons," James explained. "A bet? No, that would never happen. I love Rumer. It's always been this way," he shrugged. "No, Padfoot, it hasn't always been this way. The regular Padfoot, the one I know, will find a new girlfriend every week. You're succumbing to the Amortentia, Padfoot," his friend insisted. "I'd been going through girls so fast because I hadn't found the right one. I have, Prongs. It's Rumer Sable," he insisted just as fervently. "Snap out of it," James slapped his across the cheek.

"It's love, Prongs. You can't stop love."

"The hell I can't."

**-:-|-:-**

"He was staring at you when he wasn't hitting a Bludger," Dakota informed her, "Actually _checking you out_." Lily added, "He was in such a daze when you were off on the hunt for the Snitch. His reaction to the Amortentia is _much _more expressive and easy to spot, whereas we didn't even notice you were under it yesterday. Clearly, you're winning this bet. It's like you weren't even on anything. I bet you just said something flirty in private to him, and that was it." _Should I tell them? Yes, I should. They're my best friends. They can keep secrets, especially Dakota. _"To be honest, yesterday, it was as if that was the first time I'd really _seen _him. I never really paid attention before, but he's actually really handsome. I see why the fan girls worship him." The look on Dakota's face was the equivalent of her spitting something out violently if she'd been drinking, "You're not seriously—no pun intended—considering liking him, are you?" she shook her head, "All I said was that I noticed that he was pretty to look at. I didn't commit to anything, calm down." _As if I'm _that_ easy a girl!_

"The fan girls were really feeling the hate for you back there," Lily gestured to the pitch, seeing as they were walking back to the dorm, "One girl in our year, a Hufflepuff I think goes by the name of Crystal, was discussing what hex to use on you with her similarly obsessive friends." Dakota tsk-tsked, "And _this _is why you could have picked any other potion on any other person. But _no_, you chose Amortentia and Sirius Black. Now you've got assassination plots." She laughed, "They were only discussing a hex, `Kota. Merlin, it's just a bit of fun, don't those girls have anything better to do?" Lily shook her head, "These girls are devoted to their cause, Rue. They clear schedules if Black utters even just a syllable. Crossing them is akin to unleashing a pack of rabid wildebeests on the unfortunate victim—which, in this case, happens to be you. This will be over soon, right?" she nodded, "It's a two-day affair—no, make that _event_. In truth I'm curious as to what he's got planned." Dakota palmed her face, "We've lost her, Lily. There's no point in trying to get our Rue back now."

"Password?" asked the Fat Lady haughtily. "Fish sticks," Dakota replied. "They changed the password minutes ago," answered the portrait. "We weren't informed!" cried the blonde. "Who changed it? They're supposed to inform the Heads," Lily said in a rather disappointed voice. "The four boys changed it," shrugged the Fat Lady. "Oh, Merlin. _Those _four boys. Well, Rue, try your name out. Perhaps a _certain _Marauder started it all," Dakota shot her a pointed look. "Rumer Sable," she said uncertainly. The Fat Lady only shook her head, "I don't have time for guessing, ladies. You might as well wait for someone to let you in." She let out a breath and blurted out, "The Beatles!" the portrait swung open, much to their shock. "This is a terrible sign," muttered Lily, stepping in after her. "You go and change before something happens," whispered Dakota. She nodded.

Quickly she made her way up the girls' staircases, went in her dorm room; she changed into a grey jumper that had once been her father's, rolled the sleeves up, shimmied into a pair of black cigarette trousers, and hopped into her charcoal-coloured slippers. She freshened up, brushing the tangles out of her hair and fixing the fringe above her brows. It wasn't like she was doing it for him—she did it simply because she just didn't like feeling sweaty, filthy, and disorganised after a practice session. She made her way down the staircase, the light, soft shoes making not much noise as they met the marble. Girls were screaming when she arrived, for what she didn't know. Males were confined to the side that held the girls' stairs, leaning on the wall and looking surly. She found Lily and Dakota near the wall of boys and asked, "What's got _their _knickers in a twist?"

"The most obsequious singing telegram is about to commence," Lily explained with a nod towards the opposite wall. There, complete with their name emblazoned on the drum, were the Marauders. Black brightened when he saw her looking. "They're _just _like The Beatles!" tittered a girl from his fan club, "and I've always _loved _John!" she snorted, "He's no John Lennon." The girl heard her then shot her a dirty look, her response a placid shrug. "Hang on, is Remus playing lead guitar?" Dakota narrowed her eyes at the most reserved Marauder, her mouth falling open in shock, "He really _is _playing lead guitar." Now, for Rumer, who hated her blood purist family so much that she rebelled by being well-versed in Muggle things, was a big fan of The Beatles. Imagine her surprise when the first few bars of her favourite song from _Abbey Road_ were being played by him.

_I want you... I want you so bad. I want you. I want you so bad, it's driving me mad, it's driving me mad.. I want you. I want you so bad, babe. I want you. I want you so bad, it's driving me mad, it's driving me mad._

Fan girls were swooning left and right. Sirius Black was not devoid of pipes, indeed. But even so, he was looking at her. It was a look so determined and sultry that she found that her lips had parted. "He's looking at you, alright," Dakota said breathily, fanning herself, "I don't even like him and I'm shifting in my stance." Lily giggled, "He's not a bad bass player, is he?" _of course, she means Potter. _The boy she spoke of winked in her direction, and she granted him a small wave. "None of that!" Dakota smacked her arm playfully, "Close your mouth, Rumer!" _he really is quite good-looking. _If it was a normal day, she would've found him sauntering over to her disturbing, because she was usually more preoccupied with something else. But it was not a normal day, Sirius Black had organised his Marauders into the Fab Four, and she was too entranced to react badly.

The music had faded away by the time the surly wizards left the post and Black had made the sea of underage witches' part, "Evans, Keighley. Mind if I borrow Sable for a moment?" he said silkily. "Rumer," Lily piped up, "Her name is Rumer, Sirius." He grinned maliciously and reached up to caress her jaw, "Yes, that's what I meant. I'd like to borrow _Rumer_ for a moment." She stiffened at his touch. It was so foreign, and so public. He wasn't supposed to react so obviously, or he'd lose the bet. _Are you intentionally trying to lose this bet, or do I actually have pints more of that self-control? _"No," Dakota said. "_No_, Dakota?" he asked her challengingly. "I mean," the blonde seemed flustered, "Yeah." The volume of his voice lowered to a husky whisper, "Come with me." She was still standing there, her lips parted, half-astonished and half-turned on. _Yes, he's attractive,_ admitted her intellect, _devastatingly, I might add. No harm in taking advantage, especially since he's the one initiating it anyway. _She looked to her friends, both of which looked apprehensive to the suggestion.

"Sorry, Black. I'm not coming with you," she replied, pushing him off and heading up to the dorm. _Aha, now you'll be the boy who's been turned down. How's your first time treating you, Black? _She got under the covers, quite pleased that she'd shrugged him off with a single line, and fell asleep. There was no way she was wearing anything less than the jumper and trousers when there was a horny teenager running around the castle.

**-:-|-:-**

"That was the most embarrassing experience of my entire _life_! Remind me to never let you talk me into something like that ever again!" Remus hit him on the back of the head with a book the next day in the Great Hall, where girls were giggling more than usual as he sat down. "What? What did I do?" he massaged the spot where the hardbound volume had hit him. His Saturday mornings didn't usually include a generous helping of blunt force trauma to the back of the head. "He doesn't remember, Moony," sighed James, "OK, so you sang _I Want You _by the Beatles in the common room last night around nine, and you dragged us three into it. You also talked Remus into being charmed to be able to play guitar." _Oh, shite. That ruins everything perfectly! _"What the bloody hell else did I do?" Remus seemed to have recovered, "You almost had sex with her, too."

_Now that's where I'm wondering how come you said anything to the contrary. _"Why'd you stop me?" James palmed his forehead. "_We_ didn't stop you, Padfoot. She did," Remus nodded toward Rumer Sable, who was only just making her way to her spot at the table, wind in her hair. "Bloody hell," with a sigh he stood, strode over to where she sat, and supported his weight with his right hand while he asked her, "Why did you stop me?" Rumer only smirked, "Pay up, Black. You owe me two Galleons." He shook his head, "You owe me a shag!" she only laughed, "No, I don't owe you anything. You, on the other hand, owe me two Galleons, or do I have to repeat myself?" at that precise moment, two sixth year Hufflepuff girls hopped their way over, "Oh, hi, Sirius. My friend and I just wanted to ask if you had a date to the Halloween Ball yet." _Payback, Rumer Sable, does not come in your favour. That's why it's called payback. _Wordlessly he looped an arm around her shoulders, "Sorry, girls, looks like I'm booked." He felt her freeze beneath his touch, a statue not of stone.

"That's too bad, really," said the other sixth year, "Just remember, and if you're in need of someone to take to the Ball, I—Cathy Lawrence, by the way, my friend here is May Hector—am free." He nodded, adding a nuzzle to her head for cheek, "Mm, yes, but that's unlikely, isn't it, Rue?" she smiled at them sweetly, "See you around." The two Puffs looked appalled for a moment, then walked away, decidedly less hop in their step. "Get off," Rumer peeled his arm away from her shoulders like she would to an unsightly piece of kelp from the Black Lake; "I don't like being used." He smirked, "Well, I don't either, but I was used as a guinea pig for a potion better left untested." She was unfazed, "I never said you had to agree to it, Black. You chose to do it _by yourself. _Fine, scrap the Galleons. Just leave me alone, OK?" he teased, "But I've become _attached_ to you."

"Well, then, _detach_ yourself. Find some other girl to get attached to. I'm sure any member of your numerous fan clubs would be _eager _to be that candidate," she responded. "But I'm attached to _you_, not them. Indulge me, Sable," he smiled at her, his signature one, that entailed mischief and all sorts of dangerous things. "I refuse," she opened her book bag and looked for something. "Instead of me paying you two Galleons, you humour me, as I did you. Does that sound fair?" she quirked a brow, "What do you_ really _want, Black?" he sighed, "Can I explain in a less…public place?" Rumer looked to Lily for approval; Lily gave him wary look, but nodded anyway. "OK then, I'm going to Charms, which _you _don't have, by the way, and you can explain on the wayto _my_ first class." He let out a puff of air, "Fine." He mimed to James that he'd be walking with Rumer.

"Right, well, I'm listening," Rumer said, straightening the lay of her book bag's strap on her shoulder. They had finally made their way out of the jungle that was the Great Hall, amidst many curious and vengeful stares. "You're not going to hex me, are you?" he suddenly realised the ultimate danger of talking with a witch who didn't particularly adore and might be capable of destroying him. "If you give me reason to, I won't hesitate. Now start explaining," she stated firmly. "OK," he began in a low voice, "I need you to pretend to be going out with me until the Halloween Ball, because however divine the attention I receive may be, I do not enjoy being followed into the little boys' room. If you at least give the appearance of going out with me, I think you'll be able to drive them away and I can _finally _enjoy something other than absent and undying loyalty."

"What is this, a ploy?" her brow was quirked at him, "You don't think I'll believe this act that the attention-hungry Sirius Black wants to lose all his attention, do you?"

—**TBC****—**


	4. Love You To

**Wow, I almost nearly forgot about this story!**

**In any event, hello there, if you're still interested, here's the fourth chapter.**

**The previous disclaimers still apply, and this chapter is being told in Sirius' limited third-person PoV.**

**On with the show!**

* * *

><p>"It's not an act," he explained, raking a hand through his hair to perhaps charm her into agreeing with his plan. Honestly, he wanted to try her out. She seemed to have grown over the summer—by <em>grown<em>, he meant, _into his standards. _Up close he noticed the ample décolleté, the small yet not ridiculously tiny waist, the firm derriere, and of course, those long, unblemished legs. These features he noticed when he managed to tear away from her gaze, which was large and magnetic in its effect. "Though you want me to believe you?" Rumer asked, words flowing out of her mouth. "You seem like you're game for anything. I went along with your little experiment, the one with the potions that could have potentially had a permanent effect on me. Will it really hurt you so much to pretend to be going out with me just until the Halloween ball?" he told her bluntly.

Rumer regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt much." They stopped before the Charms classroom. "Thanks," he said, "can I kiss you goodbye? You _have_ agreed." She blinked, "OK, try not to make out with my cheek." That made him crack a smile, and place a kiss where she asked. "See you later, then," he shifted from one foot to the other. "Yeah, see you," she turned and disappeared into the classroom. _Wow, is that how you treat the guys you date? _Stares followed him when he made his way to his Transfiguration. From girls they were a mix of sadness and wrath, and from the guys, surprisingly, they were annoyed.

He walked into the room, and slid into his seat beside James in the back row. "So, you and Sable," his best friend began teasingly, "I didn't think you were serious, just under the influence of Amortentia. Though it does appear that you and her _are _actually going out." He let out a breath, "Where in Merlin's name do you get your information?" James shrugged, "The most reliable of sources, of course." Remus turned around and said, "He asked Marlene McKinnon, who saw you talking to Rumer outside the Charms classroom and kissing her on the cheek. Please, I'm trying to increase my intelligence quotient. _Do _argue about Padfoot's life later."

That silenced him. James Potter, his best friend presumably in the entire universe, had resorted to schoolgirl _gossip _to know what was going on with him. _You could've asked,_ he thought, _I'd tell you anyway. _In spite of everything, Prongs was still Prongs, and he could tell him anything. The fact that he hadn't asked him first stung a little. It subsided, like his initial reactions. For once, they made it through class without their Head of House calling their attention. Lunch was uneventful. A lot of the time they spent it pulling pranks and lounging about near the lake, but all of a sudden when Moony suggested actually eating in the Great Hall, he couldn't think of one reason why they shouldn't. Breakfast and dinner, those were the times they made appearances in the said venue. Right then, as he felt the midday sunlight on his face, he felt strangely out of his element.

"Feel like telling me something, Sirius?" asked Remus, closing his latest read. "The only thing I'm telling you, Remus, is that I am bored. I am _very _bored, and I don't like being bored," he let out a blast of air. "Ask one of your girls to entertain you, then," suggested James, "or are you waiting for just the _one _girl to entertain you?" he made the mistake of looking over, to be met by a few hungry gazes of the female variety. It warranted another sigh. _Where is my fake girlfriend when I need her? _He drummed a half-steady beat on the table with his fingertips. "I'm trying to eat, here," muttered Peter. "Well, good, the pacing will slow you down," he snapped. "Leave him be, Wormtail, he's testy because his new toy isn't present," smirked James. _You're damn right I'm testy; I all but hire her to act like she fancies me and she's not here. _Remus began another book.

_Speak of the devil_. Rumer walked into the Great Hall, hair down, floating down the path and landing at the Gryffindor table. He raised a brow at her. Once she noticed him doing so, she seemed to mouth, _oh, right_, and floated over to his end. "Hello, Rumer," it was Remus who greeted her first, "read anything good lately?" she nodded, a little absentmindedly for her usual alert self, "This lovely little book, I can't remember what it's called, but it's about these unshaven people in America who gather round bonfires and dance to folk music. It's a really lovely, wonderful read. It gets you to loosen up and things like that, really lovely." James looked up from his plate. Peter stopped mid-chew. Rumer Sable was the reserve Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, selected for her reflexes and good instincts, and there she was in front of them, talking about _hippies_?

"You think it's 'really lovely,' Rue?" he asked her. She looked up at him and a slow smile spread across her face, "You're so pretty to look at, Sirius." James laughed under the guise of a violent coughing fit. "Oh, Jimmy, you're sick. This magic medicine will do you wonders," she slid a vial across the table, "You take one drop and _everything _is just so lovely—except Sirius, he was already lovely when I drank it." Remus wasn't amused. "Rue, who gave you the magic medicine?" she played with a lock of hair as she spoke, "This lovely person with blond hair, really lovely, but his vibe is sort of, I dunno, wigged out." He narrowed his eyes at her, "How blond was his hair, Rumer?" she transferred her gaze to him, "Wow, you're lovely, like, _actually _lovely. Say something else; you look lovelier when you talk." James recovered from his giggles, "Carry on then, Sirius."

"How blond was his hair?" he asked, an edge creeping into his voice. "Whoa, you just got _less _lovely. Can you shove your fascist beliefs down my throat a little less forcefully? I mean, that was _not _groovy," her head lolled back. "You should take her to the infirmary; the drug Malfoy gave her could have permanent effects. In all technicalities, giving him a piece of my mind isn't abuse of my Head Boy position," James added. "I'll take you to the Hospital Wing, how does that sound?" he told her softly. "Mm, groovy, hospitals have beds, right? I miss my bed," she nodded, allowing to be led out of the hall, James slipping the vial swiftly into his pocket to show the nurse what she had drunk. "Yeah, they have beds," he managed to say before she swooned, falling backwards on to him. With a huff he tucked both arms under her legs, and carried her out. "We'll see you in class, Sirius!" Peter's oddly squeaky tones were the last thing he heard before he began the journey to the infirmary. _Ah, here comes the hard part; might as well do it now while most people are at lunch doing boring things._

"You're really lovely," Rumer murmured, still in that somewhat dazed tone, "has anybody told you that you were lovely?" he nodded, "Yeah, a couple of people." She smiled and put her arms around his neck, "I must say; they're not wrong at all." _I don't know whether this is an effect of the potion or just you, but either way I'm going to take them as compliments. _"Sirius," she piped up again as he turned the corner. "Yes, Rumer?" he replied. Without warning, she kissed him on the cheek, resting her forehead against his temple. "There's nobody around, you don't have to play-act when there's nobody around," he would've shrugged, but he risked letting go of her. "I'm not play-acting, Sirius," she did it again, her lips against his cheek, "You're so lovely." Normally girls told him he was hot after they made contact with his skin, not _lovely_. That word was effeminate.

The arrival at the Hospital Wing was welcome—the sudden displays of unwarranted but not unwanted affection unnerved him. "What's happened?" asked Miss Shaw, the younger nurse, once he safely lowered Rumer onto the nearest bed, mumbling and giggling in a half-slumber. "She said she drank this potion," he found the right vial in the pocket of his robes and dumped it into the woman's hand, "and she's been acting strange, using phrases that she wouldn't use normally, and doing things that I'm sure she doesn't even think about." Miss Shaw, an auburn-haired twenty-something nurse, uncorked the bottle and sniffed the contents. "Ah, I see," she concluded, stuffing the cork back in, "She's going to be fine in a few hours, Mister Black, but for now she'll be a bit out of character. This potion that she drank brings any alter egos out for a ride—fortunately for this young woman, the alter ego the potion brought out is a harmless, peace-loving hippy, so she won't be causing too much damage." He was confused, "So is she on Veritaserum or something like that, Miss?"

"It's not as simple as that. To put it simply, think the effects of Veritaserum, except ten times more," explained Miss Shaw, watching Rumer while she plaited her hair, humming some song. "Are you saying it brings out this facet of her personality?" he still didn't understand, and usually he understood these things faster than most. "That's exactly what it is, Mister Black. Will you be waiting until she snaps out of it? I'll be giving her a lot of sedatives to make her rest, I'm telling you now," the auburn-haired nurse informed him. "When will she wake up?" he asked. "About two hours from now. I think you should go to class," added Miss Shaw. Rumer heard her when she said this and cried out, "Sirius, are you really going to leave me here?" he felt the need to comfort her. "I have to go, Rumer. You would've wanted me to go to class." She blinked and waved farewell.

He responded with a two-fingered salute, and left her in Miss Shaw's capable hands. He knew she was fully capable because she'd treated a few minor injuries he incurred the past year, and trusting the Healers were part of the equation. He went to his next class—Potions. _Oh, the irony; the sweet, irksome irony._

—**TBC—**


	5. I Want to Tell You

**Hello, again!**

**If you're still interested, here's the fifth chapter—sorry for the long pauses between updates, I've gotten rather busy.**

**The previous disclaimers still apply; the first part of this is told in Rue's limited third-person PoV, and if you've forgotten, Sirius left her in the infirmary the last time we checked in on them. Right, well, here goes!**

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><p>She was usually fine waking up, but somehow that day it was hard to do. <em>Wait, am I still in daytime?<em> She rubbed her eyes, a habit she had yet to kick, and looked around. _Well, this certainly isn't my room._ She was tucked into one of the firmer, unfamiliar beds of the Hospital Wing, still in the clothes she last remembered putting on. Her uniform was rumpled and her shoes were by the side of the bed. There was no light, but for a strange glow coming from the window by her bedside table. She craned her neck in the direction of the nearest clock to verify her suspicions. _Ah, it's night-time, and I'm not in my room. OK, time to re-evaluate the path that led here. _The last thing she remembered was hotly refusing Lucius Malfoy's offer of a Calmness Draught he'd just brewed, stating that she would never take anything from a Slytherin, much less him. She remembered him sneering, and saying that he thought that odd, because the rumours had already said that she would take anything from anyone if she thought that she needed to experience inebriety by a certain kind of potion.

_Did I take that potion? _It was only in a vial, she remembered, too little a dosage to prove too harmful. _Damn it, Rumer, you took the potion because you thought that the experience could prove educational, and that the amount surely wouldn't permanently damage you. Have you learned _nothing _from the Amortentia Experiment? _She resorted to mentally berating herself when she was frustrated by the lack of logical reasons for her behaviour, and that night was no exception. She let out a blast of air and escaped the cocoon one of the nurses had probably thought would keep her asleep, feet finding their way into shoes. She righted herself as best as she could—who knew who was up at ten in the evening at Gryffindor Tower? One look at her and they'd call her mental, if she didn't bother to at least straighten the lay of her vest. She could try to appear normal.

She walked out of the Hospital Wing on tiptoe, paranoid that Miss Shaw would randomly appear to reprimand and wrap her up in a tighter cocoon. She found her wand on her person and whispered _lumos_. Once she was safely out of the area she made her way to the nearest bathroom, casting a Freshening Charm upon herself before continuing the jaunt up to Gryffindor Tower. Hopefully nobody she knew was in the Common Room...

The Fat Lady was snoring when she arrived, her footsteps and the glow of her wand disturbing the inhabitants of the other portraits. "It's far too late for you to be mucking about, young lady!" crowed the portrait of an old wizard who sneered at whoever looked upon him. She tapped the frame of the portrait she did need to be awake in a desperate attempt to rouse the subject from her slumber. "What's the password?" slurred the Fat Lady, not even opening one eye. _What _is _the password? _Rumer felt ridiculous, coming all this way and not knowing the password. _Now I'll have to wait till morning to get in, and sleeping in the hallway is the most uncomfortable thing in the world! Why couldn't I have stayed at the Hospital Wing? _Soft footfalls of another person made her jump, her wand meeting the ground in the process, still lit. _I really hope it's not McGonagall._

Out of seemingly nowhere, Sirius Black appeared beside her.

"Merlin!" she blurted out, hand coming over her heart in surprise. "I was going to check on you in the Hospital Wing, but you weren't there," he said plainly, as if he did that all the time. "I'll explain why I don't like the Hospital Wing later, when we're inside. Do you know the password?" she was too tired to go along with his games of banter, and if he knew the password, her life would be _so _much easier. "That's the password!" the Fat Lady said to no one in particular, portrait hole swinging open. She cast the portrait one confused look before going through. It closed behind Sirius. "Was 'password,' the password or something else I said?" she asked him, settling down on the hearthrug. "The password was Merlin," he responded. For some reason the things he said lacked their usual amused undertone—he never said anything that wasn't allegorical in their nature.

She watched him fold a cloak and tuck it under his arm. "Are you OK, Sirius?" they weren't friends, they were play-acting lovers, but she sensed a certain sadness ghosting over his aura. "I'm fine, Rumer, thanks," he half-smiled, turning to go up the boys' staircases. She realised something suddenly and decided to tell him about it; "Hang on, you used my first name." He turned and half-smiled again, "Well, you used mine." There was something in his voice that made her pity him, so much that she heard herself say, "You're not OK, Sirius. Why don't you sit down and tell me about what it is that's bothering you so much that you can't even say anything with your usual undertones?" he shrugged, "It's really nothing, you should get some rest." _Hang on; he's being kind and considerate. Something is definitely wrong. I actually feel the wrongness of this moment._

_You're not friends, silly_, said a little voice in her head, _you're operating on an agreement to pretend to be lovers. The keyword is _pretend._ It doesn't give you any right to coax anything out of him. Leave him be. _She stood up and said, "If you say so, all right. Have a pleasant evening, I suppose." She offered him a smile. "Thanks, Rue," he smiled back, but it wasn't the toothy grin he usually flashed. It was sad and all mouth in nature. _He is certainly not your friend, but he is a person who is unhappy_, argued a firmer, more rational voice that she suspected was her other thought train,_ people who are unhappy, regardless of who they are, require something to make them happy. It needn't be a grand gesture, but even the littlest one makes a difference in their demeanour. _Operating on this theory, she stopped at the foot of the girl's staircases, waiting for him to take a step.

He stood there, unsmiling, staring into space. She couldn't help it. No matter that he was Sirius Black, everyone's favourite boy. He wasn't himself, and he needed cheering up.

She took a deep breath and strode over to him, wrapping her arms around his frame. She expected him to jump back and call her something awful, but he relaxed into her embrace, like a tired soul given precious rest. "It gets better, Black," she murmured, not really expecting him to hear. "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic, but I'm going to take that as it is," he said, a trace of the toe rag she had come to know edging into his voice. "You're a twat, I'm trying to be positive and encouraging. I'm going to conclude this hug now, thank you very much," she attempted to escape, edging away. He wouldn't budge. "I've got you," she could hear him smirk.

_See what you've gotten yourself into? You could get sexually harassed for Merlin's sake! _Her intellect was not pleased by what was happening, clearly. "There is something seriously wrong with you, Sirius Black," she muttered, struggling against the union of his tree branch-like arms. "I'd like to try out my fake girlfriend to see if she's got what it takes, thank you very much, and there's nothing wrong with a trial period," he responded nonchalantly. "Let me go, Black," she pushed him away, palms flat on his chest, but he wouldn't budge. "So tell me, what potion did you take to turn you into this lovely human being?" he asked, unfazed by her efforts.

_Wait just a bloody moment; he called me a lovely human being! _

"I didn't take any potion," she whispered, flattered and surprised. Sirius smiled; it was all teeth. _He's fine, now. _

—**TBC****—**


	6. She Came in Through the Bathroom Window

**Gosh, hi! Welcome to the sixth chapter, I'm so glad you've arrived. **

**This is told in Sirius' limited third-person PoV. I feel like he's gotten a bit OOC, really, so read on to see if the Sirius we have all come to know has returned.**

**Here it is, then!**

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><p>"Well, don't just stand there and look so scandalised, Rue," he said teasingly, still not letting Rumer go. It was amusing to see her like that, panicked and trying to break free. He wasn't a sadist or anything twisted like that, but he just found it amusing, for some non-sadistic reason. "I don't drink everything that people give me, OK," Rumer sighed, stopping her escape efforts for a moment. "Rumour has it—pardon the pun—that you do," he stated, repeating what the increasingly factual Marlene McKinnon had told him earlier. "Those aren't true, you shouldn't trust anything that Marlene tells you," she had seemingly read his mind about his source. "You drank a mysterious draught brewed by Lucius Malfoy. I think that qualifies," he didn't want to use it against her, but he needed some leverage! He couldn't get her to do what he wanted if they were almost even.<p>

"Let me go, Black, and I won't run up the stairs. I've no idea what happened between the moments I drank the potion to the one wherein I woke up in the infirmary," Rumer relaxed. He narrowed his eyes at her, but let go, preparing himself for a chase. It did not come; as promised, she stood there, arms folded over her stomach, looking up at him expectantly as she asked, "What happened while I was under the influence?" he cleared his throat, "Well, er, you started talking about hippies to me and the Marauders at lunch." She palmed her face, "Sorry about that." _Not going to tell her anything else, because that's just going to throw her off her game._

She didn't look like she came from the Hospital Wing, but her clothes were a little rumpled and her hair was a bit messy. She still smelled nice, though. "Really sorry, again," she didn't meet his gaze. "You can make it up to me, though," he suggested innocently. "How?" she asked, brow quirked. "Go out with me," he propositioned matter-of-factly. "Sirius, I'm your fake-girlfriend until the Halloween Ball. Shouldn't that be enough?" she let out a sigh. He shook his head, the smirk growing on his face, "I told you, I like to try out my fake girlfriends before officially appointing them to the position." Rumer sighed again. "If I do, will you forget about what I did while I was under the influence of the stupid potion Malfoy gave me?" he didn't bother controlling the smirk. "What potion? I didn't hear you talk about a potion." She rolled her eyes, "OK, fine, I'll go out with you."

_Why aren't you excited? You should be excited! You're going out with me, for Merlin's sake! _"Tomorrow night at six, Sable; look nice," he added. "Don't push it, wanker," she muttered, turning to go up the girls' stairs. "G'night, Sable!" he went up the boys' staircases, itching to tell the others. OK, so maybe just James. The boy hardly heard anything straight from him anymore, and it was kind of pathetic considering he was technically the best friend who was supposed to know absolutely everything. When he opened the door to their room, Frank was snoring away on his bed, and his beloved Marauders had set up camp inside one of the four-poster beds, curtains closed, visible only because of the wand somebody had lit to see. He walked over and threw open the curtains, much to the shock of Wormtail, who fell off the corner of the bed he'd been sitting on.

"Thanks for the seat, Wormtail," he said jokingly as he helped the shorter boy onto the last free corner of the bed, next to Remus. "Glad you've joined us, Padfoot," said Prongs, "this is our first scheming session for this year." He nodded, "Glad I arrived in time, Prongs. So, tell me, what have we got planned so far?" Moony cleared his throat, "The full moon is on Thursday next week, and I am integral to the execution of this prank, hence I will not be able to perform it with the rest of you if Padfoot wishes it to be done that day." He looked to Prongs, "Can you fill me in on the prank? I'd like to know what masterpiece we're going to put our names on." Prongs motioned for him to come closer, and whispered the entire plan in his ear, just in case anybody was listening. He sometimes called Prongs paranoid for doing things like that, but most of the time Prongs' raging paranoia saved them from being harmed too badly, so he withdrew his claim of insanity on his best friend and instead supported whatever delusion he liked to put into play—it was usually just his paranoia.

Remus drew up the plans, writing backwards in his neat print to keep anyone from stealing and/or reporting them. "Prongs will be the lookout while Wormtail and I set up the equipment. Padfoot will distract everyone else with one of his patented attention-getters, and we will all settle into our seats to keep from rousing suspicion. Are all the details of the plan clear?" he and Prongs exchanged a look: _this is going to be fucking great. _"Crystal, Moony," Prongs agreed. "Hang on, when will all of this happen?" asked Wormtail. "I say tomorrow," he suggested, "but not in the evening, because I've got a date." Prongs smirked, "Have you broken up with Sable, or are you just going to do it tomorrow night?" Moony shot him a reproachful look, "She's the first decent girl you've gone out with; can you not break up with her the first chance you get after the shag, Padfoot?"

"I haven't broken up with Sable, Prongs. I'm going out with her tomorrow night, so I say the prank should happen in our first class of the day: Charms." Prongs grinned, "That'll be a good start and end to a day, I think."

They scrambled into their seats, subtly dropping hints for one another that their respective tasks had been fulfilled. Energy coursed through him, fingers tapping against his side in anticipation. Flitwick walked in, climbed up his stool, and began his discussion; "Today, seventh years, we will be tackling—," when his stool fell to pieces, and fireworks trailed by feathers exploded from the corners of the classroom, enveloping the class, their professor, and their things in the fluffy white stuff. The fireworks continued to put on a show as Flitwick struggled to scold the class over the din of girls complaining that feathers had gotten in their hair and boys mumbling among themselves in amused wonder. The Ravenclaws, who they happened to have Charms with, were not as amused as their fellow Gryffindors. They cried bloody murder to their Head of House, actually, stating that the fireworks could have seriously hurt someone and that the feathers had triggered a life-threatening allergy in one of their housemates. He knew for a fact that nobody in Ravenclaw House was allergic to the feathers they had procured early in the morning, and the Ravenclaws were just irked that their precious kiss-arse time with Flitwick had been interrupted. "_Misters_ _Black and Potter_! Enjoy yourselves as you clean this up, no magic, tonight, in detention! For now, come along with me, we are going to transfer classrooms!" _oh look, when his voice rose, it seems he got a few inches taller. Good on you, Professor, you're eye-to-thigh now._

_I've got a date with my fake girlfriend tonight! Fuck. There goes my chance._

He went with the milling crowd to the next classroom, manoeuvring past the other students to get to Rumer. She was talking to Lily Evans, of all the people, and when Evans noticed him hovering her eyes narrowed. "Er, Rue, could I have a word?" he cleared his throat to call her attention. Rumer noticed him and hastily told Lily, "I'll catch up with you, yeah?" Evans didn't look too pleased, but nodded, moving away to give them privacy. "Can we reschedule?" he asked. "_Reschedule_? Are you joking?" she raised a brow, but her lip quivered with the coming laughter. "I'm quite serious," he responded, delighted that he could use his name in several puns. "I'm busy," she said flatly. "Can you wait in the Common Room tonight until I get back?" he propositioned. He could see that she was about to say no, but she seemed to have realised something and changed her tune: "Of course I can, Sirius love, and in next to nothing, naturally." For about two seconds he was confused, and then remembered: _technically, we're still in public, so she's obligated to act like my girlfriend. I nearly forgot._

He smirked, "In that case, meet me in the hallway outside the classroom after Charms?" Rumer smiled, one too sweet to be genuine. "I'd love to, Sirius." She went into the classroom first and settled down between Evans and Keighley, who immediately set to work talking to her in hushed, irate, girly tones. He sat down beside James, who immediately turned around and raised a suggestive brow at him. "You and Sable tonight, eh? I can't say I blame you, she's pretty fit. Good on you, mate." _That exchange happened two minutes ago. How is it possible that the rumour mill found out about it? _"Who told you?" he asked instead. "I didn't have to ask, everyone's talking about it," shrugged his best mate. "You're kidding, Prongs," he chuckled to dumb down his own anxiety. "Padfoot, if you're assuming that your conversations are secret, it's natural everyone knows."

"Everyone knows? Absolutely _everyone_?" he asked. "Even Moony does," shrugged James. "It's true, and if you ask me, there's a great possibility that she won't wait for you at all," Remus told him in a low voice. "Judging on what everyone knows already, I'd say she would, actually," said Peter. "What do you all _know_?" he was starting to get annoyed by the fact that everyone had already found out about something he hadn't even completely processed. "Oi, McKinnon!" James whisper-shouted. "What?" asked Marlene exasperatedly, whipping her long centre-parted blond hair over her shoulder. "Tell me what you know again!" Marlene grinned and scribbled a note on a piece of parchment, folding and passing it to them while Flitwick was busying himself with his House. The parchment arrived and he eagerly unfolded it, trying to decipher the curly girl-scrawl.

**The gossip is about Sirius Black and Rumer Sable. It's been confirmed: they're going to shag tonight, possibly in the Common Room, or the more likely place, the dorm where Sirius sleeps. All the girls are itching to stop it from happening. I heard Mary MacDonald is even planning to get the proposed time out of Rumer, so she can walk in on them in the middle of it. Mary told me that Cathy Lawrence is planning to use one of those long-time hexes on Rumer so that starting tonight she'll be awful in the sack. The Ravenclaws know too, by the way, and they might try something loads more dangerous if they're **_**that **_**devoted to Sirius. The Hufflepuffs will probably be nicer, but I doubt that the Slytherins care about that when they have Regulus in their House. **

The new information made him more than anxious to meet her after Charms. He'd have to tell her to look out for herself—they weren't friends, but nobody deserved to be cursed. That kind of curse, especially, was irreversible. He didn't want to be the first and the last in her series of horrible encounters! He looked to Remus in despair, but his friend was too busy diligently taking notes. _I'll do my schoolwork, and _then _I'll worry. _

It took forever, but eventually Flitwick dismissed them, shrilly reminding him and James about detention. Like he'd expected, girls were glaring daggers at Rumer while she waited in the hallway, sitting on a nearby bench. She stood when she saw him.

—**TBC****—**


	7. Something

**Sorry, life got in the way again. In any case, here's the seventh chapter. It's told in Rumer's limited-third person PoV.**

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><p>"Looks like our plans have been postponed," she told him sweetly. Sirius frowned, "I was looking forward to them, such a shame." She grinned, "Oh, Sirius, it'll be all right." Then something amazing happened.<p>

He leaned in and kissed her, his hand cupping her face. She had heard from the other girls, the ones who he had shagged, that he was a great snog. She didn't believe them, of course. Now, though, she found herself agreeing with them. His was soft and lingering; he snogged like he had found something new that he admired and wanted to shower you with kisses because he did. It was sad, but her left arm went slack, dropping the book she had previously been holding to the cold marble floor. Her right hand somehow found its way to his neck, and somehow her fingers threaded themselves in his hair. _Oh Merlin, that is some bloody nice hair. _Snogging Sirius was akin to having just a drop of a potion; good or not, you wanted to know what the rest tasted like. Well, in her case, anyway. She loved it, the sensation of him right there. She loved this new potion.

"Er, Sirius, do you think I could have Rumer now?" asked a familiar voice behind her. She didn't want to, but she slowed and broke away. It was Dakota. "Oh hi, `Kota," she said, regaining composure. "Hello," Dakota cast a wary look at Sirius. "Are you free tomorrow night?" she turned, but not as sharply as she would have liked. Sirius had asked her a question. "Sorry, Sirius, but Rumer promised to help me with History of Magic," her friend told him flatly, linking an arm through hers. "How about breakfast?" Sirius asked. "Sure," she responded before Dakota could cut in. "Meet you at the Great Hall tomorrow morning, then," smirked Sirius, "Nice seeing you, Dakota. Excuse me, ladies." With that, he went in the other direction. She turned to Dakota, with a smile spreading across her face like a slow warmth. Dakota's mouth was set in a harsh, disappointed line.

Her brow creased, but she knew it was half-hearted. Wordlessly, Dakota dragged her in the direction that ultimately led to the greenhouses. "Can you at least tell me what's going on?" she asked. "That's what I would have liked from you," Dakota responded darkly. "Look, `Kota, here's the thing," she leaned in to whisper the next part in her friend's ear, "Sirius and I aren't actually going out. We're just making it seem like we are so he can get some girls off his back." Her friend seemed unsatisfied by this response, because her expression hadn't changed. "That was a very real snog I witnessed, Rumer. You don't pretend to snog someone that way."

"Dakota, it's just business. A game, if you will. It's nothing," she shrugged. They entered the greenhouses, and Professor Sprout seemed to be too engrossed in her own lecture about a certain plant extract to notice that they were a good ten minutes late. "The leaves hold the most extract, but they're also the most fragile parts of the Araignée," said Professor Sprout, "Would anyone care to guess why the plant was called Araignée?" predictably Lily's hand was already in the air. "Miss Evans?" as she opened her Herbology text to the appropriate page, Lily began to read the proper passage from memory: "Araignée, or as it is more commonly known, the Spider Root, is called as such because of its spindly branches and cloth-like leaves, which reminded early botanists of the legs of a spider and the web it wove." Professor Sprout nodded, "That is correct; twenty points to Gryffindor. Now, when and where was Araignée first discovered?" Lily's hand was in the air again. The Hufflepuffs they were having class with were unperturbed; there was no use competing with Lily Evans.

Professor Sprout called upon one of her closest friends again. "Araignée was first discovered in A.D. 43 in south Gaul, now modern France, during the reign of the Muggle Roman emperor Claudius. A young wizard by the name of Maximus stumbled upon the bush as he was selecting wood for a new wand." Professor Sprout awarded their house another twenty points. Only a few people knew, but she rather liked History of Magic. Sure, the class was being taught by a ghost that hadn't realised he was dead, but she enjoyed the subject. Her favourite topic was the Charter on the Rights of Common Wizards that was signed in England in 1215, around the same time the Muggles had their Magna Charta approved. She loved the idea that the plebeian class could affect the nobles just by rising up—it was this idea that sent her deep into the books during the summer.

In truth, she hadn't spent _all _summer at Dakota's family's place in Brighton. Most of it she had spent at her own house, nose buried in her father's books. Her father taught Wizard law to aspiring members of the Wizengamot, the Ministry department to which he belonged. She had told him at six-years-old that she wanted to be just like him, and that changed a little considering the fact that she realised he was a vicious blood-purist. She wanted to be part of the Wizengamot. She wanted to cut through all the red tape that was keeping wizards from getting the justice and services they deserved, the red tape that her father helped set up. Her mother said it was an odd dream, considering that nowadays injustice was rampant. She stuck to it, though. Rampant injustice or not, she would change the Ministry from the inside out. She had to, if she wanted the next generation to enjoy anything. She didn't tell her father that she thought he was a narrow-minded twat that shouldn't have gotten on to the Wizengamot because of his narrow mind. She pretended to idolise him.

"Did you hear what happened to Mary MacDonald?" Marlene approached her after class as she made her way to Arithmancy, falling in step with her. "No, what happened?" she asked, genuinely curious. "She's in the Hospital Wing, waiting for the Healers to pick her up and take her to St. Mungo's," Marlene began in a low voice, "Someone hit her with the Cruciatus Curse." She blinked, unable to process fully what her roommate was saying. "She was just in Charms with the rest of us, wasn't she?" Marlene nodded, "She went to the loo on her way to the greenhouses, and whoever did it was waiting in the bathroom for her." She still couldn't comprehend fully, "Why would someone do that?" Marlene stopped in the middle of the hallway. "I thought you knew!" she shook her head, "What do you think I knew?" Marlene sighed, but whispered in her ear:

"Mary MacDonald is a Muggle-born, Rumer. Those Death Eaters don't like that at all."

She had gone to the library right after a quick dinner, finishing all the homework due the following day in less than ten minutes. Once she'd gotten those out of the way, she started reviewing for her licensure exam. Her father had explained to her in detail when she was twelve; before you could apply for even a clerical position for the Wizengamot, you had to take a licensure exam that mostly dealt in Wizarding law from the dawn of humanity to the present day. Technically, she had an advantage; seeing as her father was part of the Wizengamot, she had been told at least a smidgen of information about various matters covered by Wizarding law that transcended millennia throughout the years. She already had an idea on most of the topics the exam would cover. However, there were still some topics that she couldn't understand even if she truly tried.

"Miss Sable, the library is closing in fifteen minutes," said Madam Pince, strolling by and chancing upon the aisle where she had been reviewing the 1564 Appendix to the Charter on the Rights of Common Wizards. "Madam Pince, is it alright for me to borrow this?" she asked. "Certainly, dear, follow me," responded the bird-like librarian. Most of the students didn't like Madam Pince very much, but she was most comfortable when she was in the library, so Madam Pince had become rather comfortable with her presence, as well. She packed up her things and trailed after Madam Pince, the 1564 Appendix to the Charter on the Rights of Common Wizards open to the page she had stopped. She drifted by the aisles, not looking where she was going, preoccupied by Section X of the Appendix. She tread lightly, making sure her footfalls were practically soundless.

Her pace slowed when she arrived at Subsection J of Section X, where the revised list of offences against a common Wizard was listed. She bumped into someone, completely entranced by the lengthy list. "Oh, sorry," she muttered, picking the book up from the floor. "That's not the only thing you should apologise for, blood-traitor," spat whoever she had bumped into. She looked up, insulted. It was Regulus Black, Sirius' younger brother. "What else should I apologise for?" she stood up again, slamming the Appendix shut. "For wasting the blood that runs through your veins on useless Muggles, for fighting for a cause that disrupts carefully laid-out plans, for tarnishing the integrity of your ancestor's name—oh, wait, your name isn't yours, is it?" smirked Regulus. "I haven't got time for this," she brushed past him, walking away from the narrow-minded blood-purist. That was until a few hard things hit the back of her head, starting a hollow ache back there. Galleons shone in the dim light. "What is your _problem_, Regulus?" she tried to keep her voice level, for the sake of Madam Pince. "Around the time my family was new, there was another family who had taken the name Black. My ancestor hated the association; the other Blacks were law-makers who promoted pure-bloods to marry Muggles or Muggle-borns. To make sure that my family wasn't confused with theirs my ancestor paid the head of the other Black family to change their name. They chose Sable—that's yours, isn't it?" Regulus sneered.

_The Honoured and Pristine House of Sable; _

_Égalité pour tout._

"How much must I give you to stop embarrassing your family even more, Sable?" Regulus wasn't done. "You don't have to give me anything, Regulus," she said, holding her head high, "I would suggest picking up your money, though—you wouldn't want the ersatz to give it back to you, would you?" with that, she turned around, found Madam Pince at her desk, and borrowed the Appendix for further analysis. She would forget soon.

She woke up early the following day to send a letter to her elder sister. Belle was currently in Paris, attending a prestigious culinary school for witches. Her mother favoured Belle, she knew. Belle was kind and obedient, submissive to a fault. She imagined that if the Dark Lord himself came knocking on Belle's door, her sister would invite him in for tea, serve him a fine ten-course meal, and tell him over a plate of éclairs that she would be happy to serve him. It was ironic that her parents had named her elder sister for the Roman goddess of war, Bellona. Her mother was the one who started calling her sister Belle, the French word for a beautiful girl.

_Dearest Belle,_

_How are you doing? I hope the food you're cooking is good. If you can, please send me some of your latest delicacy with your reply. My licensure exam is in November, and I hope I pass, so I can start working with Father as soon as I graduate. McGonagall says my scores from the N.E.W.T. level are really high. I really do hope I pass. Dakota says she'll be in Paris after she graduates—she wants to play the role of the struggling artist before she tries her hand at the 'boring corporate Wizarding world.' Lily is Head Girl, can you believe that? Of course you would, it's Lily we're talking about here. Marlene has been spreading gossip about me, so I don't talk to her about personal things as much as I did before because I think the next moment it'll end up becoming the latest 'news.' Alice is getting married to Frank in June, and apparently I'm going to be a bridesmaid. I don't want to, but Alice is such a wonderful girl that I couldn't say no. My new haircut is garnering far too much attention for my taste—I've enclosed a drawing that Dakota did of me so you can see why—and I've been much too reckless the past month—you don't want to know what I've done under the influence of some odd potions. I promise that as October rolls in, I won't drink a potion just because somebody is daring me to._

_Love from the sister that misses you,  
>Rue<em>

After Dakota's barn owl, Morley, had given her an affectionate nip and flown away, she made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast. She still carried the Appendix, but she wasn't going to read and walk again, not after what happened the night before in the library. She knew that story, the one that Regulus had used against her. Belle had told her that story when she was younger. Their father despised the family motto and only used it if it was unavoidable. _Égalité pour tout—_equality for all. Her father didn't believe in the motto. He was just like Regulus; he thought Muggles were useless and Muggle-borns were scum. She hated him. She hated him with a passion. When she realised her hate she started to steal from him; at first she started with quills, parchment, and inkwells, but as she aged her tastes changed; just that summer she had stolen his all his priceless law books and an entire pouch full of Galleons. He didn't seem to care that she was stealing from him. He thought she still believed him, so he only replaced the things she took. She didn't care. She would play the loving daughter until she could leave him forever. She did love her mother, but there couldn't be anything done for the woman—her mother wouldn't leave her father even if the Dark Lord was going to kill her if she didn't.

"Good morning, did you sleep well?" Sirius said by greeting, looking well-rested and relaxed. "Your brother is mental," she told him, holding the Appendix close to her chest. "He's not my brother," Sirius' tone changed from cheerful to cold. "I don't blame you for thinking that of him," she sighed, "Is everyone a blood-traitor to him?" Sirius smirked, his initial mood returning. "Are you kidding? That's what he calls me, too," he feigned surprise. She laughed, "You're just as mental as he is." Sirius slung an arm over her shoulders, "Ah, but my brand of mental happens to be devastatingly attractive." She rolled her eyes, "You're a prig, d'you know that?"

Sirius smirked, "I had been aware but I'm still glad you told me." She took a seat at Gryffindor table and Sirius sat across her. A cup of tea popped up in front of her. "You've got Quidditch practise today," said a voice she knew belonged to James Potter, "Why Padfoot, why didn't you mention that we would be having guests at breakfast? I would have dressed up for the occasion. Now our guest has seen me at my absolute worst." James sat down next to Sirius, leaning on one of Sirius' shoulders. "Now, Rumer darling, would you like some tea?" she gestured to her teacup, "Thanks, Missus Black, but I'm set." The boys laughed, and Sirius brushed his best friend off his shoulder. "Hang on, why 'you've?' Aren't _you _included?" Sirius addressed James with this as she silently drank her tea. "Pomfrey says my hand is sore from too much use and not enough rest in between, so technically I'm indisposed until my hand is back to normal," responded James, "I'll have Moony supervise." Sirius was not fine with the circumstance, apparently. "What do you _mean _you're indisposed?"

"I _mean_ my right hand is used too much and if I don't rest it enough it'll become useless," James said, "Rumer will handle seeking for me while I'm away—won't you, little miss I-have-a-Cleansweep?" she smirked, "Yes, I think I would manage." Sirius turned to his best friend, "Better rest that hand, then, or else you and Lily will remain childless." She noticed the innuendo and told Sirius flatly, "You're disgusting." Sirius only shrugged, "I'm lovable." James laughed, "Practise is at three. I'm going to find Lily now, excuse me." With that, the Head Boy left. "She likes him, right?" Sirius asked her. "Lily? I suppose she does," she ate a berry from the bowl of fruit that appeared in front of her. "What's that?" Sirius asked, gesturing to the Appendix, which she'd set down beside the bowl of fruit. "It's the 1564 Appendix to the Charter on the Rights of Common Wizards," she said.

Sirius picked it up and leafed through it, then returned it to where he'd gotten it. "Why are you reading that?" Sirius asked. "I need it to review," she responded. "What're you reviewing for?" Sirius drank from the goblet that popped up by his right hand. "It's a licensure exam so I can be eligible for a job with the Wizengamot," she finished the contents of the fruit bowl and watched the teacup refill with earl grey. "You want to be part of the Wizengamot?" her fake boyfriend sounded confused. "Yes, I do. Don't you think there should be a blood-traitor on call just in case? I think there should be," she attempted to make a joke of it. "No offence, but your father's part of the Wizengamot, and he's a twat," Sirius said. "None taken; and I know. I don't want that to be the thing that people think of when somebody says the Wizengamot. A law-making body should concern itself with the welfare of the entire populace, not just the people they choose—that's why I want to join the Wizengamot, that's why I'm reviewing for the exam, and that's why I'm reading that thing," she responded.

"You're going to pass that exam, I can feel it."

"Thanks."

—**TBC—**


	8. A Hard Day's Night

**Here's the eighth one, and it's told in Sirius' limited third-person PoV. The same disclaimers apply.**

* * *

><p>Practise was refreshing.<p>

Sure, it'd rained hard. Sure, they were all sopping wet after. Sure, the pitch had turned to mud when they landed. Sure, the Drying Charm took longer than usual to take effect. Sure, the clothes they'd brought to change into just got wet again because the rain hadn't stopped. Sure, by the time they reached the portrait hole they'd already left a trail of mud and swears from the pitch to Gryffindor Tower. Sure, they all hated James then.

Practise was refreshing, in spite of all this.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but my hair looks like shite," Rumer said, examining a section of her wet dark hair. The entire damp team was in the Common Room, waiting for their captain to appear. He stood near the portrait hole, and Rumer stood two paces away. "It looks fine," Dakota approached to reassure her friend. _It's not the only thing that looks fine_. It was sad, but he couldn't help himself. Her wet jumper and jeans only made her curves more apparent, and it wasn't like he was blind. "Hey, Rue?" he didn't think she'd turn when he said her name, but she did. "Yeah?" she sounded tired. "Come over here," he motioned with his finger.

Rumer stood before him, leaning on the wall, a brow arched at him in question. A smirk spread across his face. "What, have I got mud on my face?" Rumer touched her cheek. In answer, he cupped her face and kissed her, slamming her against the wall. She did not even wince. It was not Nice Sirius who had the reins—Nice Sirius would have wined and dined a girl before going in and snogging her face off. This was not that Sirius.

This was After-Practise Sirius, and After-Practise Sirius was hungry for something that the elves of Hogwarts' kitchen could never serve him.

"If you're quite done, Padfoot, I'd like to know how practise went," said James' voice. He looked to the voice, semiconscious with lust. "I will never be fucking done, but since you asked nicely, practise was good. It fucking rained, but it was good," he muttered. "Thank you for your input, Padfoot. You can go if you'd like," James motioned to the portrait hole. "Yes, I'd like to, thank you," he turned to Rumer. She had probably slid down the wall while he was giving James the short version of the events, and she was currently fiddling with a section of her hair and looking at the ceiling. "Rumer," he said. _I do not have fucking time for this fuckery. _

Rumer looked up at him dazedly; "Yes?" he suddenly remembered that he had probably made her hit her head. "Take her to the Hospital Wing—I told you one of these days you were going to hurt her," Remus said. He tucked both arms under her legs. "What the—put me _down_, you senseless git!" Rumer was not pleased by his actions, apparently. "She could be concussed," Frank Longbottom observed. "_Go_, Padfoot," James rejoined. Ignoring her protests, he carried her out of the portrait hole, where they subsequently ran into Lily. "Where are you taking her?" asked Lily apprehensively. "He's going to deflower me in a cave somewhere," Rumer told her flatly. "No, I'm taking her to the Hospital Wing. I kind of, er, made her hit her head against the wall," he explained. "Alright," Lily narrowed her eyes at him, "If she doesn't come back in one piece, I blame you, Black."

"I know, I know," he carried her down the staircases and found himself not knowing quite where he was going. He was carrying a girl, she was not pleased with what he was doing, but she didn't complain. She only folded her arms over her stomach and glared into space. He was distracted by the first part—he was carrying a girl. She wasn't very heavy, but he was still carrying a girl who was supposed to be sating his hunger. He tried to organise his thoughts. _I need a place. I need a place private and deserted, where Rumer and I can go, but not too far. The Astronomy Tower is private, deserted, and good enough for something quick. Yes. That's good. Wait, that's too far. I'm still carrying her. Wait, why am I still carrying her? _He put her down, and she got to her feet, looking at him crossly. "Not to ask the obvious question, Sirius, but where the fuck are we?"

He actually had no idea. He lifted the tapestry on the wall in front of him and there was a door, so he took her by the hand before she could protest and dragged her into the room with him.

It was a cosy room, when he really looked around. It was about as big as his dorm room, except there was just one large bed in the middle fitted with scarlet sheets. A shelf of flat, odd things was up against one wall. Next to it was an odd contraption that had what looked to be a large horn affixed to a plate with a raised piece in the centre. "We're in the Room of Requirement, I don't fucking believe this," Rumer's fingers left his and skimmed the odd things, bringing out one. It was large and square; four girls moved in the photograph printed on it. It turned out to be a sleeve for what a Quaffle looked like if it had been flattened. "What's that?" he asked. "It's a record," said Rumer, aligning the strange hole in the centre of the flattened Quaffle with the raised piece in the centre of the other odd contraption, "and this is a record player. Now shut up and listen."  
>The horn began to sound, and after a few bars of something good the sound formed words. Dazed as he was, he knew rock n'roll when he heard it. He knew what rock n'roll sounded like, and he liked what he heard.<p>

_I love playing with fire, and I don't want to get burned. I love playing with fire; I don't think I'll ever learn._

Rock n'roll just made him hungry again.

* * *

><p><strong>OCTOBER 31, 1977—THE HALLOWEEN BALL<strong>

"Tomorrow's Tuesday, not Saturday, so don't party too hard; I'll be forced to take points from you, Padfoot," teased James, messing up his hair. "Don't worry about me, just make sure the Head Girl doesn't trip over herself," he smirked; unlike James, his `do required that no hair was out of place. Slicking it back was a little odd since he usually left it alone. He had to look nice, though. His dress robes were borrowed from James, because his father didn't bother sending his other son something to wear. He went down the boys' staircases. Some of the girls waited for their dates in the Common Room, and predictably they sighed when he arrived.

He nodded curtly to Alice Hayes-soon-to-be-Longbottom, who smiled at him on his way out. Outside the Great Hall was where majority of the people waited for their dates, and he was grateful that Remus was there to keep him company while he waited. "You look pale, Moony. Are you alright?" he asked. "The full moon is on Thursday," Remus explained with a half-smile. He nodded. "I'm fine, though," his friend reassured him. "We wouldn't want your furry little problem getting in the way, would we?" he cracked. "No, we wouldn't," his friend's response was forced at best. He regret slicking his hair back—he felt like running his fingers through it.

_Dakota Keighley better be fucking gorgeous, Moony shouldn't be going out with the full moon so soon. _His eyes scanned the crowd in the other direction for a head of gold while Remus looked serenely at the steps near the Great Hall. "Padfoot, I think you should turn around," Remus said, sounding shocked. "What, did Lily choose to wear white to the ball?" his gaze didn't leave the opposite crowd. "Someone did; I think you should look, Sirius," Remus tapped his shoulder with great urgency. Miffed that he couldn't run his fingers through his hair, he raised a brow at Remus, whose mouth was agape and was pointing desperately toward the stairs.

"This better be good, Moon—," he stopped mid-sentence. Rumer was coming down the stairs.

At least, he thought it was Rumer. In her current attire, if Rumer had lived among the ancient Greeks, they would have knelt at her feet, brought her offerings, and called her a goddess. Her dress was a one-shouldered affair, cinched at the waist; the white fabric fell to the floor. All of her hair was up, braided to her skull with gold pins inserted in certain links. He had told her the week before that the shirt he would wear with his black dress robes would be white, but he didn't think she wanted to complement it. Her fringe was braided away from her face, and he was glad to see her face in its entirety, because it was quite pleasing to look upon.

There was silence as she descended.

"You're beautiful," he blurted out. "You aren't too shabby yourself," Rumer simpered, "Hello, Remus." Remus blinked, "Hi." He offered her his arm, and she linked hers through it. "Dakota will follow shortly, I promise," Rumer told his friend, "Would you like us to wait with you?" Remus shook his head, "No, I don't think that's necessary. Thank you, though. You look beautiful, Rumer." His date simpered, "Stop, Remus, really. Well, if you're sure. Will we be going in now, Sirius?" he nodded, smiling at his friend. He was smiling—_smiling_, for Merlin's sake! He smirked at best, a self-effacing expression that he had mastered over the years. "Goodbye!"

Rumer looked over her shoulder to tell Remus this, and once they were in the Great Hall he was overwhelmed by the number of people inside. When they entered a hush fell over the usual chatter, and the music was the only thing he could hear. The crowd parted. "Sirius," Rumer asked him, "What's going on?" he grinned, "It's you, love." Rumer clung to him more tightly, "I don't think I even want to understand what you mean." He chose a table, one in the corner, and drew back a chair for her to sit. Once she had settled down, the murmuring started. Glances were thrown their way of every sort. He knew it was a phenomenon in itself that this relationship lasted as long as it did, but only a few of them really knew what was going on. After all, the secret of its longevity was the fact that they'd only kissed twice and they didn't depend on each other so much.

Oh, and the fact that they weren't really going out.

"It's Dakota!" Rumer pulled him out of his reverie. Remus arrived, Dakota on his arm. The blonde looked charming with the coronet of ivies set upon her golden hair, complementing the sea foam-coloured dress she had paired with the headpiece. "You look lovely, Rue," Dakota said, taking a seat beside Rumer. "You don't?" Rumer responded. The two girls laughed, talking among themselves in low voices. He sat across them with Remus, waiting for Dumbledore's announcement that the ball was officially underway. Peter arrived without a girl on his arm, "I felt like the bird to bloke ratio had to be unequal." He laughed, "As it must, Wormtail."

Everyone settled down, and he became suddenly aware of the empty seats. "Where are Lily and Prongs?" he asked Peter. "Lily told me she had a Head Girl thing to do," Rumer said. "Prongs said he'd be late," Remus rejoined. "They're going to miss something important if they're going together," Dakota tsk-tsked. Before he could contribute something else to the conversation, Dumbledore stood before them all, clad in violet robes that shimmered with moons and stars when it was hit by the light. He liked the décor—the wall sconces weren't lit, so the only light sources were the millions of lit candles that floated a two feet under a starry ceiling.

"We must celebrate life and what it is tonight, before we return tomorrow, devoid of our initial vitality. To lead us in a dance, please clap your hands together for your Prefects and Student Heads!"

Ten people in two straight lines entered the Great Hall arm in arm. He saw a flash of red towards the end and knew it was Lily. _Well what would you know; the old boy combed his hair for the occasion. _Not only did his best friend comb his hair, but James also secured the neatness with what he would have imagined to be pomade. They applauded as the ten waltzed around the circular dance floor cleared in the centre of the Hall.

"Oh, Rue, you look beautiful!" said Lily once they had finished their little number and some other pairs had bravely chosen to dance along to a hopping little number that sounded like something Muggles from the 1920s would have danced to. "Lily, stop it! You're lovely!" Rumer twirled her friend around, Lily's hair a silken blur of red. "What did the comb say when it met your hair?" asked Remus to James, obviously referring to the now controlled mania. "Nothing, it cowered away and I had to wrestle it back to me," James responded seriously. Two seconds later they surrendered to violent laughing fits. "I'm utterly famished, what about you?" asked Dakota to Remus. "I am too, actually—excuse us, then," Remus nodded to them, and Dakota took his arm before he could extend it. He could see the flush that crept up his friend's neck. "We're getting drinks, anyone want anything?" Lily asked them. "I'll come with you two," Peter stood, "I'm sure the lovebirds have been dying for a spot of privacy." He laughed, "Go on then if you want, Wormtail, and don't leave on our account."

They were alone. Honestly, he felt a little uncomfortable when it was just them alone together. He thought Rumer was beautiful, especially that night, but it had already sunk in—Rumer was not his girlfriend, she never was, and that night they would stage their fake break-up, because it was what they had agreed upon. He couldn't enjoy the view when he knew that all of it wasn't real. She didn't really think of him as her boyfriend. She probably thought of him as a prig, because he was just using her. Technically, they were using each other. He didn't know what he was being used for—he just knew she didn't really feel anything else for him.

"D'you want to go into the gardens?" he asked her after a while. "Sure," she stood and took the arm that he offered. His mood had soured significantly because of the train of thought that he had entertained. A kind of arch had been built over one of the benches, illuminated by fairy lights. The pins in Rumer's hair sparkled even under those lights. He couldn't fake break-up with somebody in his condition. He was far too sober to say _I have enjoyed your two kisses and the charade we played, but it's done. _He didn't want to do that while he could still remember saying that. He brought out the flask he filled up with firewhiskey and unscrewed the cap.

Rumer sat down on the bench and patted the spot next to her. "D'you want some?" he gestured to the flask after taking a swig. The liquid seared its way down his throat. Rumer nodded, and took a ladylike sip from it when he passed it to her. "Thank you," Rumer said, licking her lips. "You're welcome," he took another swig. "So will the break-up happen here or would you like your friends to see it inside?" Rumer asked. "I'll get drunk and then I'll decide," he told her. "Let me summon you a bottle, then," Rumer brought out her wand and waved it. _Did you just nonverbal on me? _A bottle of firewhiskey zoomed toward her hand after a pause. She opened it, took the flask from his hand, and drained the remainder of it as she gave him the bottle. "You know what?" he said, the buzz starting. "What?" Rumer responded. "I think we should date. I mean, really date."

"What made you think that?" Rumer asked. "You're clever, you snog well, you give me alcohol, and you're beautiful. You're practically perfect," he replied, drinking more. "Should I get you another?" Rumer gestured to the nearly-empty bottle. "You're beautiful," he rejoined. "I'm going to take that as a yes," Rumer waved her wand. "Hang on, hang on! You're five drinks behind. Allow me—_Accio_ firewhiskey," he waved his wand and Rumer caught both bottles before they could hit a wall and shatter. "You really are a brilliant Seeker," he said as she opened another bottle for him and began drinking from her first bottle. "Thanks," Rumer responded.

There was silence, just them drinking from the bottles. "_Accio _firewhiskey," he summoned another bottle for her, just so they were even, or almost even. "Drink up, so I can fake break up with you properly," he slurred. Rumer drained the entire bottle, her chest rising and falling as she swallowed. Once she'd set down the bottle, he looked at her. Maybe it was just the firewhiskey, but she was more beautiful then. "Rumer," he began, "You are very beautiful." Rumer giggled, "Thank you, you're fit." He laughed, "Ah, you're very beautiful, but take those damn pins out of your hair, I'm going blind." Rumer laughed, fumbling with the pins. He helped her, and as soon as the last gold pin was on the bench, the braids fell. Rumer shook her hair out of them, revealing waves. "You're very beautiful," he said. Rumer smiled, "Why are we sitting here again?" he blinked thrice.

"I don't know, Rue, but you're very beautiful, and I want to kiss you. May I?" he asked. Rumer's smile was still there when she nodded. He cupped her face in his hand when he did, and her hand was on his neck. He felt her push the firewhiskey bottles and gold pins off the bench, just so she could crawl closer. He felt her sit on his lap, her lips still not leaving his. Her lips were soft. Her hand was warm. They kissed like they needed it to survive. He felt her other hand struggling to remove his dress robes, at the same time he felt his own hand fumbling with the side closure of her dress. They broke away, pausing for air and to remove respective articles of clothing. Her long-lashed eyes were pellucid. They reflected the fairy lights on the arch above them. Her cheeks were pink. A smile spread across her face when she saw him looking at her. He grinned back at her.

Skin met skin, eyes grew brighter. Voices were nearly lost. Gold pins sparkled in the grass. The stars would keep shining.

—**TBC—**


	9. Good Day Sunshine

**You're still alive after that one, yeah? OK, it's safe to say that you are, because you made it here. Good for you.**

**Here's the ninth chapter, in Rumer's limited third-person PoV. The same disclaimers apply.**

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><p>The sun was glaringly bright. <em>Dakota, Marlene, Alice—anybody—please, for the love of Merlin, shut the curtains. <em>There was no change in the light, so she opened her eyes. It was then that she noticed a few things:

1. She was not in her bed in Gryffindor Tower.

2. She was in some sort of garden, lying on someone else.

3. She was lying on someone else, completely and utterly naked.

4. She had a pounding headache and was prepared to kill somebody.

5. She was lying on someone else, completely and _utterly _naked [she noticed it twice].

Of course, the panic set in—_who was I with, and did I perform all the contraceptive spells before I went to the ball? _She realised that panicking only made her head hurt more, so she chose to lay her head down on the chest of whoever she was with, hoping at least that he was fit. Muscle was firm underneath her wandering fingers. _Perhaps I can stay here under the sun and make it bake my headache away_. Her fingers wandered over to her bedfellow (if that was what he was called even if they weren't in one)'s arms, the same firm muscle underneath her fingers. _At least he's fit. Yes, there's my consolation. He's fit, so it's fine. _Her fingers wandered south, down well-toned abdominal muscle, past hips—_OK, this is enough blind wandering! Who knows what else I might encounter down there? _She cringed inwardly. _Hang on, it's Tuesday. We have class!_

She braced herself to look up so she could see her bedfellow's face, to apologise if she was bad in the sack, to ask if he had that headache too, and to tell him that they still had class. He spoke before she could look:

"Oh bloody fuck, how much did I drink last night?"

_Oh, fuck. _

It was Sirius Black. She had shagged Sirius Black. Or was it the other way around? Either way, it was Sirius Black, and she couldn't even remember if he was really any good. She rolled off him, found her undergarments, and pulled them on. "You drank loads, and I helped get you there. Get up, we still have class," she stood over him. Sirius squinted to see her face, seeing as she was against the light. As soon as he realised who she was, he reached up and dragged her down. _Damn Beater arm strength. _She was forced to kneel by him. "You're good in the sack," Sirius said with a smirk, "Quite a talent, I might add." She rolled her eyes, "Put your clothes on, I think we may still have time to go back to the Tower and change." Sirius grinned, stood, and stretched. She looked away. "Oh come on, love, you've seen it all anyway," Sirius said once he saw her looking away.

"I'd like to retain a semblance of modesty, thank you very much," she muttered, picking up the pins that had been in her hair the night before and pulling on her dress. Astonishingly, when she had been ravished, Sirius Black had let her wear her shoes. She didn't like them very much, seeing as the caramel-coloured five-inch wedge heels were too high in her opinion, but they were shoes, and they went with the dress she wore. "Modesty my arse," Sirius snorted, "Do you want any help?" _I don't even know how he noticed that I couldn't manage to zip up the dress myself. _She nodded helplessly, and he pulled the zipper back up with a bored ease. "Thanks," she replied. "It's no bother—are you ready?" Sirius asked. She checked if she had the pins and her wand. She nodded. "I've disposed of the firewhiskey bottles," he told her, "Let's go then, I suppose."

They walked up the staircases in silence. She didn't know what people said after shagging—_thanks, you were great_? She thought she was saving herself for the man she'd marry. Then again, it was her father who taught her that, so perhaps it didn't count because he wanted even her body to be pure for the pure blood that would run through her womb. The Fat Lady took one look at them and snorted, "Password?" Sirius sounded genuinely annoyed when he said, "I don't have time for your fucking judgement, Lady." She sighed, "Being rude won't help. All Hallows' Day?" the Fat Lady turned up her nose at Sirius, but let them through anyway. She didn't expect the sight that welcomed them—Gryffindors from years four through seven were strewn all around the Common Room, most in varying states of undress. "They had an orgy without us," Sirius observed.

"Indeed," she said, skirting past a snoring fifth year. "Merlin, you're not getting anywhere at the rate you're going," Sirius tucked both arms under her legs and carried her over to the girls' staircase. She was too hung over to protest. "Thank you," she told him, granting him a kiss on the cheek. "You're welcome," Sirius actually smiled at her. "I'll meet you for Potions, we're still partners," she reminded him. "I know," Sirius still smiled. She walked up the steps, trying to be as silent as possible when she entered the dorm. Dakota and Alice were inside, apparently just finishing their morning routine. "Look who the cat dragged in!" Dakota said by greeting. "Please stop shouting," she responded, knowing that her own voice was a mere whisper. "I'm not shouting—hang on, are you hung _over_?" her so-called best friend raised an incredulous brow at her. "Yes, now please just stop shouting," she repeated with much effort. "We'll wait for you down in the Common Room, Dumbledore didn't cancel class on your account," said Dakota with a smirk. "Get dressed, love!" added Alice.

She nodded, removing her shoes. The soles of her feet screamed upon meeting actual flat ground. "Bloody shoes," she cussed before taking off her dress and casting a Freshening Charm upon herself, knowing she couldn't sneak past the entire House to shower at the risk of being discovered. Orgy or not, girls showering late only meant that they had spent the night somewhere else, and everyone _knew _where that somewhere was. She put on her uniform and raked a brush through her dishevelled hair. Once she was satisfied by the veneer of well-rested perfection she had prepared, she left the dorm toting her book bag and went down to the Common Room. Just as she had arrived, Lily and James entered, looking spiffy and refreshed in their uniforms. _I would hate having to share with James Potter, but oh, I would give for a separate bathroom._ "_What _happened here?" Lily gestured to the general area. If the party-goers had been asleep moments before, Lily's voice had startled them all into waking. "They held an orgy," drawled Sirius, sauntering down the boys' staircases as he spoke, "Alas; I wasn't the one who started it." James sounded threatening yet concerned when he said, "Whoever did just cost the House thirty points. I would love to let this pass; however, I'm Head Boy, and I'm not allowed to be partial. Haven't you realised the trauma you could've caused a first year that had accidentally stayed up too long?" there was much shifting of feet nervously from one foot to the other.

_Ow, Lily's screaming feels like a horn blown in my ears. _She squinted, adjusting to the different lighting conditions in the Common Room. Sirius had arrived prepared—he wore Panamas to shield his eyes. "Rue," said a voice that also seemed to scream. She turned at the mention of her nickname. It was Dakota, but her tone was decidedly gentler. "I was saving this for your Christmas present, but you need them now more than you would in the winter," Dakota gave her a scarlet case that had her name emblazoned on the top. She opened it. Cushioned in a velvet pillow were the perfect sunglasses; round frames that were large enough to brush the bottom of her brows, and lenses so dark that you could've sworn they were stained with ink. "They're beautiful, thank you," she put them on, revelling in the fact that she could look upon the window and not cringe. She hugged Dakota, who then laughed and said, "I'm glad you liked them—I'll get you something more useful for winter when Christmas rolls around." She smiled, "You really don't need to, `Kota. I love these."

"I would have breakfast with you, but the sun is just too pretty today for me not to paint. I'll see you in class, OK?" Dakota told her. She nodded as her best friend waved goodbye, rushing to make the most of the sunlight, "Sure, and thanks again for the sunglasses!" she didn't know if Dakota had heard her, seeing as she'd already exited through the portrait hole. "Ooh, those are nice," Lily said by greeting, gesturing to her sunglasses, "Where did you and Sirius Black disappear off to last night?" she jumped back slightly, bewildered at Lily's bluntness. "Er, the gardens," she responded, not untruthfully. "So you just slept under the fairy lights while I was being tortured by boredom at dinner with Professor Slughorn?" Lily raised a brow. "Well, not exactly," she managed to say. "What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" Lily's lovely green eyes narrowed to wary slits.

She let out a breath as they went out the portrait hole. "Well?" Lily asked impatiently. "I got drunk with Sirius Black and we shagged," she muttered quickly in the Head Girl's ear. "You _what_?" Lily's eyes widened, "Did you perform all the necessary spells, or did you choose a potion method?" _OK, too many words. _"I cast all the spells, I remember doing it while Dakota put the pins in my hair," she responded. "Oh right, you favour to do everything nonverbal. Good, because I don't want you swelling up like a balloon and giving birth to a miniature Sirius Black in June," Lily nodded. _Wow, it's bloody brilliant that you even made your sentence rhyme. _

"Enough about that, what did the Head Boy and Head Girl get up to last night?"

—**TBC****—**


	10. I've Just Seen a Face

**I wonder if anyone's still reading this story—please leave reviews, I'm starting to think that nobody cares. Oh, and sorry for the late update, life got in the way.**

**Setting aside my insecurity, this is the tenth chapter, narrated in Sirius' limited third-person PoV. It's much shorter than my usual updates, but if you want to know what happens or longer chapters, leave me a review.**

**The same disclaimers apply.**

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><p>"Your game is on Saturday," James said after he had swallowed the bit of toast he'd been munching on. "Why have I got a game on Saturday?" he asked, "Why aren't you included?" James sighed, "I told you, I have things to do. Believe me, Padfoot, if I could just leave those things undone and play with you, I would—but I can't, so there." He nodded, drumming his fingers in anticipation of Remus. When Remus did arrive, he was grateful to see that his friend came bearing a vial. "What's that, Moony?" asked James. "This is the hangover cure that Padfoot asked me to brew," Remus responded quickly, "Three drops in your tea and you'll be fine."<p>

He uncorked the vial, put three drops in the cup of tea in front of him, as Remus ordered, and downed it in one gulp. Apparently Remus forgot to mention that the potion tasted awful. He made a face, and Remus cracked a smile. "I suppose I should have mentioned that you should follow it up with something sugary to wash away the taste." He nodded, grabbing the jam in the middle of the table and spreading a generous amount on his toast, taking a bite. He swallowed the toast that was soggy with saccharine jam, glad of the fact that the taste of the hangover cure went away. He never had to ask Remus to brew it before—usually he timed his heavy drinking for the weekend, so he could sleep it off. Why he chose to get drunk on a Monday he didn't know, but he didn't know why Dumbledore pushed through with a party on a Monday either.

"Better?" Remus quirked a brow at him, smirking. "Yes," he admitted, feeling the pounding headache subside a little. "How much did you drink last night?" asked James, an amused smile playing on his lips. _Brilliant friends I've got here—they find it funny that I'm so bloody hung over. _"A lot," he managed to say. "Do you remember anything?" James actually smiled this time. "Not much," he responded truthfully. He remembered inviting Rumer out to the gardens, talking with her, taking out the flask of firewhiskey he was carrying, and then—nothing. "You were snogging Rumer," Remus told him flatly, "in the gardens. Nobody else saw what happened after, if anything did." _Thinking hurts—I won't even try remembering. _"I was too drunk to remember," he managed. "Nearly everyone was, but nobody wanted to mention anything today," said Peter flatly.

He looked towards the doors of the Great Hall, and just as he laid his eyes in that general direction, Rumer walked in with Lily. The latter was talkative and animated, positively overflowing with energy. The former was pensive and silent, nodding attentively when the latter paused for a reaction. She was wearing sunglasses, too—large round ones, the lenses dark as a new moon. They went well with her Gryffindor robes; then again, all sorts of sunnies with dark lenses went with them. Lily sat a little ways away from them, surprisingly, and Rumer sat across the Head Girl. She was on the side of benches he was on.

"Late night, Sable?" said James teasingly. He cast a dark look at his best friend, but it didn't work because his own eyes were obscured by sunnies. "You say that like you slept through a troll attack," Rumer countered. "Aren't we rather _sensitive _this morning? Have you lost something _dear_ to you, Sable?" James continued. "Yeah; I've lost my ability to let your immature social commentary fly by with minimal reaction, but it wasn't very dear to me—I was only keeping it as to not hurt your feelings, because I'm nice and indifferent. Now, Potter, if you've got anything to say that isn't something that you think passes for witty, I'll be able to sit here and have breakfast in peace. If not, then I couldn't care less about what you were saying, even if you were the bloody king of England. I'd choose my words carefully, if I was you," Rumer snapped. James sat stock-still.

Lily cleared her throat self-consciously. He swallowed the last bite of toast he'd been working on as Rumer had spoken. Remus marked his place in the book he was reading and looked up, "Come off it, Prongs." James nodded, not even meeting Rumer's heated gaze behind the sunglasses. "What're _you _looking at?" he hadn't realised he was staring until Rumer asked him this with an edge to her voice. He removed his sunglasses and placed them in the pocket of Remus' robes, "Nothing, love." Rumer let out a breath, "May I have a word with you, Sirius?" he nodded, excused himself, and followed her out of the Great Hall. She removed her sunnies.

He forgot how attractive her eyes were: they were the kind of hazel that shone gold in the sun, and speared your heart by the intensity of their gaze. "I thought the agreement was that we'd end this at the Halloween Ball?" Rumer asked irately, breaking him out of his reverie. "What if I asked you out, on an actual date?" he blurted out. "Is that a joke?" she looked more than mildly taken aback. "No," he responded automatically. "Well, I wouldn't decline unless I have something to do, but why not," shrugged Rumer. "You're agreeing?" he asked—it was his turn to be shocked. "Yeah, do you want me to take it back?" Rumer raised a brow at him.

"You can't take it back anymore," he could feel himself smirking, "How about Saturday, after the game?" Rumer nodded, "Alright."

—**TBC****—**


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